Tornado
by ncptune
Summary: [AU] When Finn finds himself the victim of a violent carjacking, he falls over the edge and ends up in New York, with Kurt, in attempt to heal both his physical and mental scars. There, he finds himself becoming close to aspiring star, Rachel Berry, but they just might end up stuck in each other's tornadoes. (Finchel. Platonic Furt and Pezberry. Trigger Warnings inside.)
1. Act Zero

**So, I listened to Places and fell in love with Tornado and kind of got the inspiration to write this. One of my fave tropes is a soft love where two people take care of each other and help each other heal and that's what the basic premise of this fic is about. This is also my first ever Glee fic and honestly, I couldn't have chosen a worse time to start writing for Glee but here we are anyway.**

 **I completely stole the carjacking idea from the book/novel Goat _plsdontsuemebradland_**

 **This is a finchel fic, with platonic furt and pezberry. Trigger warnings (should there be any) will be posted at the start of each chapter, like so;**

 **tw: violence.**

* * *

It was a party Sam threw at the beginning of summer. He was going to Ohio University at the end of the year. They all were, actually. Finn had a full ride, he had managed to nab a football scholarship and when September rolled around, he was going to be an Ohio Bobcat, along with Sam, Mike, and Artie. They had it all figured out. There was four of them, so naturally, that meant they could have _two_ dorm rooms instead of one and that was more space to get wasted in. They had it planned, Finn was going to share with Sam, Mike with Artie and every weekend, they were going to go to the other guy's dorm room and get drunk. They were going to become their own little fraternity that was just the four of them.

(The idea of joining a fraternity did occur to them but then they heard horror stories of hazing and decided it would be easier for them to simply be the four from McKinley and move on.)

For now, however, they were in Sam's house. He had invited all of the football team, all of the senior Cheerios, some of the hockey guys and even more people Finn had only graced with his presence due to being the quarterback. It was jam packed and it was getting later far quicker than Finn could have possibly processed.

He carried a beer in one hand as Mike dragged him through Sam's house, until they were going upstairs and then they were in Sam's bedroom – his younger sibling's bedroom was supposed to be off limits but Finn could see a slight crack in the door that hadn't been there when the night had begun, telling everyone who looked at it that there was some couple in there making out or worse – and Sam was on his bed with Brittany on his lap. They were making out and his hands are on her ass. Adjacent to the bed, sat Quinn. She was the head cheerleader and president of the celibacy club but Finn could easily dismantle the latter, if he ever told anyone outside of his group of friends that he and Quinn had slept with each other, giving the other their virginity in the process. They broke up a year later and now, she regarded him with cold, almost nostalgic eyes.

"Come to watch?" she asked, her tone condescending.

Finn had his arms crossed over his chest, his beer almost tucked under his arm. "Mhm." he said. "Like you."

Quinn blushed but rolled her eyes. She took a long drink from her beer, looking away from Finn and from Brittany and Sam, to stare out of the window, acting like the Disney princes she thought she was.

"This is like, the ultimate end to any party." Mike said, his arm heavy around Finn's shoulders.

"I thought they'd broken up." Artie said and Finn hadn't even realised that he was in the room with them. He wondered how he'd managed to get away from Tina, his girlfriend, to meet up with them.

"It's for goodbye." Mike said, the tone of his voice suggesting that that was something that was obvious. _Duh_ , was what he wasn't saying. "They're going to different colleges, they're not going to see each other again after the summer ends."

"That's romantic." Artie said, his mind elsewhere. Probably on Tina, who was going to a different college but who wasn't currently making out with him.

"That's dumb." Finn said and he meant it. Ever since he had broken up with Quinn, he'd really taken a defiant stance against relationships. He had said it was because he was over being a relationship man but it was really so that he could protect himself because Quinn had broken his heart, snapped it in two right in front of him.

"You're a bummer." Artie said and used his elbow to hit Finn in the thigh.

Finn didn't react to that but he did look down at Artie then back to Sam and Brittany on the bed. At this point, they were really going for it and Brittany had long since taken on her stripper persona, she lacked the shirt she had come wearing and no one seemed to be complaining. Finn would have liked to have stayed and watched further or got more drunk or found a girl to sleep with himself but it was _late_ and he was conscious of some kind of feeling building up in his chest.

"I'm gonna go." he announced.

"What?" Mike asked. "What the hell? It's _still_ early."

"It's almost three in the morning." Finn told him.

"That's early." Mike shrugged.

"Don't be lame." Artie chimed in.

"I'm not," Finn said. "I'm going home. This party was fun but it's boring now."

"Whatever." Mike said and he crossed the room, to sit on the desk next to Quinn. She looked at him, scowled, and then turned back to the couple on the bed.

Finn shook his head lightly as he set his beer down on the nearest set of drawers and, as he was about to leave, he was stopped when Artie hit his arm. It was a light tap but not so light that he didn't feel it. Finn was beginning to become conscious of what he could and couldn't feel.

"Do you want me to come with you?" Artie asked. He was always more careful than the rest of them.

"I'm good." Finn said. "I've got the car and I've only had like, two beers."

"Alright." Artie said with a nod. "Drive carefully."

"I will." Finn said.

He managed to escape the bedroom then, weaving through the crowded house until he was in the garden, then in the street. It was dark outside and the streets were only illuminated by the nearby street lamps. Finn fished the keys of his car from his pocket as he neared it. He'd gotten the car for his birthday. His mother, Carole, and step-father, Burt, had saved up for almost two years to get him it and Finn was proud of it. It was a sleek white colour and it looked far more expensive than any of the cars parked around Sam's house. He wasn't going to leave it here over night. He didn't trust anyone, despite this being an overall good neighbourhood.

The car was in his sights, his fingers wrapped tightly around the keys, and he was planning on what he would do when he got home. He'd apologise to Kurt for being so loud and then he'd stumble up to bed and not bother to get changed before he flopped into the bed. He'd sleep until the afternoon and then wake up with a small hangover, to which his mother would make him her remedy of bacon and eggs, and it would be a normal Saturday.

It would be a normal Saturday and -

"Hey man," someone called out from the darkness. "Do you mind giving me a ride?"

Finn stopped dead in his tracks. He paused before he looked over and saw a tall lanky kid on the street corner. He wore a dark hoodie, zipped all the way up, and it seemed like he was on some type of stimulant. He couldn't stand still and he kept looking around. He kind of looked like some kind of human prairie dog.

"Um," Finn knew it wasn't the best idea. Who just gave random, probably drunk, strangers rides? "I don't know man."

The guy got closer and Finn noticed that he was rubbing his hands together. "Please?"

"Uh," Finn shook his head. He was tipsy, he'd had more than the two beers he'd said he had and he didn't want to be the reason someone's son didn't come home. "I don't think so."

"It's just, my friend and I," the guy began to explain. "We live a little bit away from here, not too far, and he got really drunk. He's the designated driver and we don't have any other way to get home."

Finn wasn't sure what to make of that but there was a lot of drinking going on at the party. There was definitely people who were far more drunk than he was, so make sense that this guy's friend was plastered. He decided then, that it wouldn't be a bad idea. These guys were doing the right thing by approaching him and not just driving home anyway and Finn knew better than most people that getting a cab home would cost a fortune.

"Okay." he nodded. "Yeah, sure. I'll drive you. This is my car here."

"Thank you." The guy said with a nod. "Let me go get my friend."

"Sure." Finn said.

As the guy turned to go, Finn went to his car and opened the door, getting in the driver's seat. He slotted the key in the ignition and waited, patiently, for the guy and his friend to arrive. He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel and briefly wondered if this would have gone differently had Artie been here. He was more sensible than Finn and he would have known what the best thing to do in this situation would be.

Finn was then brought out of his almost self deprecating thoughts when he heard the car door open across from him. The first guy got in and Finn noticed that, in the light, there was an ugly mole on the bridge of his nose. If this had been a fairytale, it would probably have a hair growing out of it. Behind him, Mole's friend got into the car and he didn't seem nearly as drunk as Finn had assumed but he did have the most intense eyes Finn had ever seen on another man, so he didn't question it.

Mole prompted him to go down the street and Finn started the car.

* * *

"So, how do you guys know Sam?" Finn asked.

They'd been driving for a good ten minutes now and they didn't seem to be getting any close to one these guy's home. Finn was beginning to grow nervous.

"Sam?" Mole asked and Finn glanced at him.

"The guy who's party we were at?" Finn asked, slightly dumbfounded.

"Right," Mole nodded. "We don't. A friend of ours is friends with him and he invited us."

"Oh." Finn said, because that made sense. A part of full of teenagers usually only ended up packed the way Sam's had been when people tell their friends about it. "Cool."

They fell into silence then and Finn realised that they were still driving, still going down an empty road and there was no sign of houses on the horizon. And as they were driving, Finn kept sneaking glances at Eyes in the rear view mirror. For someone who was supposed to be blind drunk, he looked alert, he looked like a dog who had raised it's hackles and was waiting to pounce. Finn could feel himself begin to grow even more nervous. He licked his lips and tightened his grip on the steering wheel.

"Hey," he said and his voice was weak. "We've been driving for a little while. How much further to your house?"

"It's just up the road." Mole said, pointing up said road.

"Yeah, but like," Finn shrugged. "How long?"

"What?" Mole snapped and Finn felt his nerves get a lot more intense.

"I gotta get home," Finn said. "It's getting late."

"Huh," Mole leaned back in his seat. "I told you. We're almost there."

"We can find a gas station," Finn attempted to compromise. "And you can make your way home from there."

"We're _not_ doing that." Mole said. His voice was harsh, stern.

"Look, I don't feel comfortable -" Finn began.

"Oh, you don't?" Mole spat.

Finn's palms began to get slick with sweat then and he struggled to hold onto the steering wheel. He should have said no and avoided this, he should have said no and not ended up in the middle of nowhere with two guys who definitely seemed way more angry than he had first realised. He should have said no.

"Whatever." Mole said. It was clear he was angry. "Turn here."

Finn looked and saw that there was nothing but a dirt road to turn onto. It might have been a short cut to the street in which one of these guys stayed in but that was a pipe dream, Finn knew he had been asking for too much for that to be true. And despite it all, he had to be sure.

"Here?" he asked, incredulously. "There's nothing here?"

"Do it." Mole snapped.

Finn turned as quickly as he could, the wheels of his new car getting dirty as he travelled along the dirt road. He would have ducked out of the car and ran if he could. He had long legs, longer than those guys, and thanks to his fear sobering him up, he would have been able to get away. But his pride kept him rooted to the spot and he didn't want to leave his car with these guys, as stupid as it sounds. His mother and Burt almost bankrupted themselves gifting it to him. So, he didn't duck and run like he should, he stayed firmly in his seat.

"Stop here." Mole instructed and Finn obeyed instantly.

They sat in silence then, Finn waiting for something to happen. He waited for them to get out of the car and disappear into the darkness that started where the light from the headlights ended. He waited and hoped and had he been religious, he would have prayed. He even wanted someone to say something, to break the tension. He wanted one of these guys to start laughing and tell him that this was some insane prank that Sam, Artie and Mike had pulled on him. That was what he wanted but that wasn't what he was getting. He could feel the fear seep into his bones, tainting his chest and lungs.

"You're an idiot." Mole said and then began to get out of the car.

Finn turned his head to see him, to try and ask him what he meant by that but then he heard shifting from the back seat and then suddenly, Eyes has his arm wrapped around Finn's neck, pressing his back against the seat and somewhat cutting off his air supply. Finn grabbed his arm, his short fingernails digging into the exposed skin but it was no use, he was trapped in his own car by two guys who were – who were -

 _Holy shit_ , Finn thinks. _I'm being carjacked._

It wasn't a secret that Finn was a little slower than the rest of his grade. He took a little longer to understand things and sometimes large words would go over his head but he was a smart guy, but the kind of smart that marvels at the fact that he's the victim of a carjacking instead of, I don't know, fighting back. He had the height advantage over his attackers and he was a football player, that should have meant that he had a fair chance. But it was still two against one, Finn wouldn't have stood a chance.

And then Mole was at the door, yanking it open so hard it had almost come off it's hinges and he ripped Finn's seatbelt off, before he slammed his fist into his solar plexus. Finn wheezed, the air completely gone from his lungs and Eyes then let go of him just long enough for Mole to grab him but the arm and hair but not long enough for Finn to be able to fight back.

And he was dragged from the car, Mole's hold on his hair began to tug it from his scalp and it hurt but Finn couldn't bring himself to cry or scream in response. Not yet anyway.

He got thrown on the ground then, accented with a dusty _thump_ and the two men, because in the headlights Finn could see that they're not teenagers at all, they're slightly older, in their early to mid twenties, and they both have the look of someone who wants something and it's something that Finn had.

 _I'm going to die_ , he thought then.

Mole hit him first. He punched him square in the jaw a couple times and then the tender place between his eye and hair until it was wet and then again and again until Finn can feel the tears in his eyes. He was gasping for air, trying to defend himself but then Mole grabbed him by the wrist, stopping that effort before Finn can ever make it come to fruition.

Once more, Mole grabbed a fistful of his hair, and he dragged Finn up onto his knees and then, as he turned to face his accomplice, he twisted Finn's arm painfully behind his back. The gesture caused bouts of agony to shoot up Finn's arm and Finn could tell that, should Mole have applied a little more pressure or bent a little further, then his arm would have broken.

Eyes came over then and he knelt down in front of Finn. As he did, the white light from the headlights shone directly into Finn's eyes, causing him to squint right at the moment when he felt Eyes reach into each of his pockets – the four on his black skinny jeans, the two on his grey WMHS hoodie – until they found his phone and his bank card. The phone wasn't the best, an old iPhone model with a slightly cracked screen and there was a faded and half scratched off McKinley Titans sticker on the back, cutesy of Brittany. Eyes regarded it for maybe half a second before he threw it into the long grass somewhere on the side of them. It was hone for good.

He then held the bank card up, looking at it in the light provided by the car. Finn could feel bile rising in his throat and there was something warm and wet on his face. There was _two_ things that were warm and wet on his face. There was the blood from the various cuts on his face and the tears that had began to fall a long time ago. He was scared, he was so scared he shook in Mole's grasp and he was sure, so sure, that he was going to die.

"What's the pin number?" Eyes asked then.

His voice was a lot deeper, a lot rougher than Finn had expected but he didn't answer him. He was too scared to. He was scared of what would happen if he told them and what his mother would say if she found out he had told them – if he got out of here alive that was. But because he didn't answer him, Eyes lifted his foot and landed a harsh kick to Finn's jaw. Pain exploded over the area and for a moment, Finn thought his jaw was broken. White spots danced over his vision and all he could focus on was the ugly bruise that would form there once this was over, if he ever got the chance to bruise that was. He attempted to shy away then, to protect himself, but the grip Mole had on him didn't stray, so he was unable to do nothing but gasp and bleed and cry.

"What's the fucking pin?" Eyes sneered.

This time, Finn answer. "4468."

Eyes nodded, pleased with that, and then he pocketed the card. Finn watched as his assailants looked at each other and then, out of the blue, Mole let go of him. Finn gasped, a combination of both shock and the need for oxygen. Mole walked around to join his friend and they looked at each other. Finn, still on his knees, struggled to keep himself upright.

"Please don't," he gasped. "That's all I have."

"What?" Mole asked.

"I don't have - have anything -" Finn paused. It hurt to talk. "Else. Please let me go."

Neither of them seemed impressed with that. Mole moved forward and punched him again. Finn fell to the side and then onto his back and he looked up and saw a night sky blanketed with stars. They were shining and bright and twinkling and they looked nice. But then, his view was blocked by a fist as he was punched over and over again and all he could focus on was the way someone's knuckles collided with the skin of his face and how his _entire_ face now felt warm and wet and how he couldn't tell the difference between the blood and tears at this point but he wasn't sure if that even mattered now.

The weight that was on him shifted and then it was gone. Finn sucked in a weak breath.

"Do you want a shot?" Mole asked.

"Sure." Eyes said.

There was another weight on him now, this one heavier, this one had larger and more painful fists, this one did more damage. Eyes was more of a loose canon, his punches landed on Finn's head, his face, they harshly batted his arms away as Finn attempted to defend himself, a natural instinct to keep his head safe.

Eventually, Eyes got off of him. He shared words with Mole but all Finn could do was lay there and looked up at the stars. They were still bright and shining and one half of them were red now, which was weird, but not something he was going to complain about. It might have been an astronomy thing but Finn hadn't taken astronomy. There was too much math involved.

His trance was broken when he heard the slamming of car doors and the turn of an engine and he heard the tires on the dirt road. For a brief moment, he thought about how this would be ending. He was going to be a victim of a hit and run. The news would report him as an unfortunate kid who had been on the wrong road at the wrong time. Or he would be a John Doe, nameless for the rest of his life. They would show his case on Unsolved Mysteries, he would be a damaged corpse with proposed image likenesses and his mother would never get to bury her baby.

But then... the car reversed and it was gone.

And Finn lay there for a long time.

Or what felt like a long time. He couldn't breathe properly, there was something congealed and blocking his nose and it only really shifted once he forced himself onto his side, forced his bloody and dirty hand to wipe his nose and he found that it was blood. There was a lot of blood and that should have caused him to panic but for whatever reason, he was calm, serene.

He was still calm as he dragged himself along the dirt road, his breaths heavy, his head sore, with blood in his eyes, nose, his mouth, down the front of his grey hoodie. He couldn't die on a dirt road, no one would find him. He wanted his mother to be able to say goodbye, he wanted her to have something to bury. She hadn't with his father, it was important that she did with him.

So, he dragged himself until he realised he was in some sort of field. There was a large car that wasn't a car but a cab with large wheels and a lot of dirt around it. The dirt was neatly combed into orderly lines and it looked nice, Finn decided that this would be a nice place to rest. If his rest didn't end, then someone would be out to tend to their orderly lined dirt in the morning and they would find him and his mother would get to say goodbye.

And then, amongst the calm thoughts and his eyes unable to stay open, he noticed something. It was small and red but not red from the blood in his eyes but red because it was _actually_ red. It scampered from side to side and then it stopped, a foot or so from Finn, sniffed the air between them then howled. It was a loud, bone shuddering howl. Finn heard it right in his ears, as if the animal was right next to him and not a foot away. He looked closer, or as close as he could, and realised that it was a fox.

The fox took off before Finn could say hi.

Somewhere, very far, in the horizon, a bright, yellow star light up. It wasn't as high as the other, it was on line with him almost and Finn thought that, maybe, it was something that was coming to claim his soul. He'd never been religious or spiritual but perhaps this was someone proving him wrong. Finn decided that he would meet them halfway.

He got back up, onto his scratched and bloody knees and hands and crawled through the dirt, upsetting himself to the point of weak tears when he realised that he was messing up the lines that had been created by the large wheeled car. He wanted to apologise, to whatever deity that drove the car, for ruining their hard work. He knew how much he hated it in football when someone got credit for his tackle or his touchdown or his leadership, he would make sure to apologise when he reached them so they wouldn't feel as bad as he did now - and he felt _really_ bad.

When he did reach the star, it's brightness seemed subdued. It was trapped inside a rectangle cage but Finn could see the stairs that would lead him up to where they were keeping the star, the deity, and he dragged himself up the stairs. He realised, as soon as he collapsed on the wooden boards, that he was on a porch and the rectangle cage wasn't a cage but a house and the star wasn't a star but a light from inside.

He had found a house. His mother might not have had to say goodbye after all.

But Finn didn't have the strength to get up and knock on the door. Despite it being right there in front of him, there was no way for him to be able to reach up and knock, to be able to explain what happened. He had no energy left. With the arm that was trapped under his head, giving it something to lean against, he weakly reached out and his fingers brushed something wooden. It was too smooth to be the porch and it moved under his hand. Slowly, because he couldn't manage anything else, he looked over at it and saw that it was a chair. But no, not just _any_ chair, it was a _rocking_ chair.

He managed to shift forward, he managed to secure his hand around the leg. He managed to rock the chair.

The wooden legs hit the porch in a rhythmic beat. First, Finn couldn't hear it but then he could and then it was deafening and then he was out of energy and he was being swallowed by darkness he hadn't attempted to fight.

His eyes closed.

A door opened.

Someone screamed.

* * *

 **Feedback is encouraged and appreciated!**


	2. Act One

**I'm really happy with the feedback I got on the first chapter of this and I'd like to thank every one who left feedback. That was nice to read in between my study sessions.**

 **And I know this the start of this story is a little slow but the next chapter should start to kick things of (such as a certain relationship) and the plot will really start to take off. I'd also like to not that this chapter is far longer than I planned it to be but I got really into while writing and I'd like to think it's a good thing.**

 **As always, feedback is appreciated.**

 **tw: panic attack, mentions of bullying, and possible suicidal thoughts (if you squint really hard.)**

* * *

Someone had found him.

Someone had called an ambulance and someone had gotten him to the hospital. Because of that someone, Finn didn't have to think about his mother having to say goodbye to him. He didn't remember going through the system, he didn't remember being patched up or telling a nurse his name so that she could call his parents. He didn't remember his mother rushing into the hospital, tears pouring from her eyes as she hugged him and then apologised for any further pain she caused him. Burt had come too and while he didn't cry, he had put a firm hand on Finn's shoulder.

It was all just a haze to Finn, who had been on morphine and fear and he didn't want to think about it, so he'd just slept and then swam in the haze of being high on the pain meds he'd been given and it had been fine. It had been mostly fine.

After an MRI scan, to make sure everything was okay, he was released two days after first being admitted to hospital. The drive back to their home was silent. Finn had been admitted to a hospital on the outskirts of the town, which had shown him just how far away he had been from his mother, from his friends, from being able to survive. He didn't speak a single work to Carole or Burt as they drove, despite how much they had tried to speak to him.

Every time he would catch a glimpse of himself in the window or rear view mirror, he could see the purple and blue blotches on his face, the line of stitches he'd received at his temple and that spread down to the corner of his eye. He'd known the doctors were afraid that they would have to give him a blood transfusion but it hadn't been that dire. They'd also feared that there was some brain damage, due to how incoherent he'd been in the ambulance - mumbling about foxes and trapped stars - but those had just been fears, nothing else.

There was talks of going to the police, because there was no way he ended up on the outskirts of Lima, bloodied and half alive, on accident. Finn didn't want to talk to the police, simply because he couldn't remember what his attackers had looked like. He remembered that one had a mole and how the other had intense eyes but that was it. The police could do nothing if he couldn't tell them who they were looking for.

When he did eventually get home, Finn did nothing but hole himself up in his room, taking the pain meds he'd been prescribed and staying in bed. He didn't want people to pity him for what had happened, he felt bad enough for making people worry about him as it was.

Wallowing in self pity might not have been the best way to go about that but there wasn't much else Finn felt like doing. And Finn had gotten good at avoiding his mother and Burt in the days since the incident.

He was in the en suite bathroom he shared with Kurt and on the counter, there was but two things that belonged to him. Pain medication and cream for the bruises on his face. There other things were hair care products and skin products that belonged to Kurt and, at times, Kurt had forced him to use them.

( _"No one likes flaky skin, Finn_ " _he had said._ )

Finn looked at his reflection, at the large blotches of purple and blue hues that marred his skin. One covered his right eye entirely, it spread up to his hairline and just under his cheekbone. It crossed over the threshold of the stitches that were on his temple. There was another bruise on the other side of his face, on his jaw. It was the darkest one, more black than anything else, and it caused him pain when he spoke. He'd taken to speaking in mumbles and head movements to try and alleviate it a little. It was part of the reason as to why he didn't want to speak to anyone too, it was hard to do that was one couldn't speak in the first place.

After he got sick of his reflection, which was fairly quickly, he walked out of the bathroom with only his pain meds in his hand. It might have been a bad idea not to use the cream but Finn was just being stubborn. He'd lost all control that night and he wanted to keep something under his grasp.

When he got back into his bedroom, the bottle of pills held tightly in his head, he realised he wasn't alone. He realised there was someone standing in the door way, waiting for him. Finn looked up at them and saw that it was Kurt. He was leaning against the door frame, his arms crossed over his chest, and while it looked like a pose that would lead to a lecture, his usually well composed expression showed nothing but concern.

It wasn't that much of a surprise. Despite the initial shock of them having to be brothers and live with each other, they had gotten to know one another, they'd grown to love one another. Finn had protected Kurt when one of the football guys had decided it would be a blast to bully him non stop during their junior year of school, so it was only natural that Kurt would feel like he needed to return the favour. The key difference was, that while Kurt appreciated Finn's help and concern, Finn didn't want his right now.

"What?" he asked. He hadn't meant for it to be so mean, he just wasn't in the mood.

"I'm worried about you." Kurt said as he got off of the door frame. "We all are."

"Cool." Finn nodded. He sat down on his bed, his back to Kurt.

"Finn," Kurt said, his voice a little more stern but it was out of love, out of worry. "You can't brush this off like it's a football tackle. This is serious."

"I don't want to talk about it." Finn said and, as far as he was concerned, this was the end of it.

Kurt walked into the room then. He came over to face Finn, sitting down on the chair beside Finn's desk. He had uncrossed his arms now, his whole body language had gotten softer.

"Your friends are worried about you too." Kurt said. "Sam has been here three times a day for the past two days. You need to speak to them."

Finn looked up at Kurt. They met eyes, looking at each other for a moment too long and Finn felt a familiar sting in his eyes. He wasn't going to cry in front of Kurt, he didn't even want to cry when he was alone. He didn't want to be that weak, that pathetic.

"I don't care." Finn said.

Kurt sighed. He was exasperated. "Our parents have gotten in touch with the police. We're going down to the station. You need to tell them what happened."

Finn shut his eyes then, looking away from Kurt. A tear leaked out then and he was quick to get rid of it. He could only imagine the look on Kurt's face, the awful things he was thinking about him.

"I don't remember." Finn said.

"Are you sure?" Kurt asked. "You don't remember anything?"

Finn opened his eyes, sucked in a deep breath. "I remember leaving the party, giving – I remember driving for a while and then – and then – Then it happened and I -"

"It's okay." Kurt said. "I, personally, know how hard it is to talk about these things. Just tell them everything you can and it should be enough to help them find the guys who did it."

Finn shook his head. "I'm so stupid."

"No, not at all." Kurt said. "You were doing a nice thing, you were helping people, that's not stupid."

Finn scoffed. "Would you have given strangers a ride?"

Kurt seemed dumbfounded for a moment. "Well, I, I just -"

"No, you wouldn't." Finn said. "I'm the worst person in the world."

"This isn't your fault, Finn." Kurt said. "You can't blame myself."

"Who else can I blame?" Finn asked.

Kurt leaned back then, resigned in the fact that there was going to be nothing that would convince his brother that what had happened wasn't his fault. He sympathised with Finn, however, because he'd been in a similar position. Memories of all of the times he'd been bullied, insults hurled at him, the times his back would hit lockers after he'd been harshly shoved, all came flooding back. He would sneak home and cry quietly, so that his father wouldn't hear, so that Carole wouldn't hear. He had blamed himself too. He would stay up late at night asking what it was he'd done to deserve this, why he couldn't just be one of those kids who went unnoticed by the jerks who made his life a hell.

But Kurt had learned to love himself from the bullying, he had learned that who he was was exactly who he needed to be and it wasn't his fault that these people couldn't understand that. It prepared him, thickened his skin for the world that he would be stepping into when September came around and he'd be in New York, pursuing his dreams.

Kurt hadn't been able to see the positive outcomes when it all had been happening, but he could now. He knew Finn was in the same position but... quite frankly, Kurt couldn't see Finn aiming to learn from this, not yet anyway. And Kurt wanted to do anything he could to help Finn but he felt powerless now, unsure how he was able to get through to his brother.

"Finn," he said, softly. "Are you okay?"

Finn paused for a long moment. He wasn't sure what the right answer to that was, what Kurt had wanted to hear. He wasn't sure if he was anyway but he didn't want to admit it, he didn't want to open the door to something that would cause it to be impossible to shut. The water would come flooding in and he would have to watch as his friends and family flocked to him, wasting their lives looking after him. He couldn't have that. He could take care of himself.

"I'm fine." he said, a little too harshly. "I'm fine."

* * *

His mom drove him to the police station. The car was filled with a tense atmosphere that had left both the Hudson's rigid. Finn wasn't sure if it was harder for him to be around Carole or if it was harder for her to be around him but neither of them spoke and it felt slightly foreign to even breathe louder than usual. The radio remained silent and all that could be heard was the tires on the road.

If Finn could have had it any other way, he wouldn't have come with her. He would have let Burt take him or even Kurt. And if he'd _really_ had his way, he wouldn't have been going to the police in the first place. They'd cancelled his bankcard and they'd already reported the stolen car, there wasn't anything to be done. They all should have moved on and allowed this whole thing to become a thing in the past but everyone except for Finn seemed to be content with remaining firmly where they were.

So, now Finn had to walk into the police station with his mother and sit down in front of a police officer and give his statement about what happened. Carole had reassured him that everything would be fine and that he should say everything he knew. She wanted the people responsible to be reprimanded and brought to justice. Burt had backed her up on it and while Kurt had remained silent during the conversation, Finn knew that he agreed with their parents.

And Finn didn't like this at all. He didn't like all of this attention and he just wished that they would all move on and let him do the same. He didn't want to keep thinking about this because he already thought about it as much as he did and it kept him up at night. Sleep escaped him on most nights because when he would try to get some sleep, he would have vivid nightmares of the attack, he would be reminded of what happened, and then he'd wake up in a cold sweat and panting and it was never a good thing to deal with.

The police station itself was quiet and Finn sat on an uncomfortable plastic chair as they waited for an officer to come out to them. Carole was silent as she sat next to him, her hands crossed over her bag which rest in her lap. Finn knew she was doing this because otherwise, she would have had the urge to reach over and take his hand. She had done so when he had been in the hospital but now it seemed contrived. She kept sparing glances in his direction and he just wanted it to _stop_.

Soon enough, the officer did come out and he simply asked for Finn and Finn alone to come with him. Carole was clearly against this but she nodded calmly anyway and Finn followed the older man down a hallway and into a room. The room held a long conference table which various chairs around it. There was another man already seated, a notepad placed in front of him and Finn was instructed to take a seat directly in front of them. He was beginning to grow nervous as he lowered himself onto the seat, his palms slick with sweat.

"I'm officer Thompson and this is Officer Hobbs," The man with the notepad said, gesturing to the other police officer when he spoke his name. "We're just going to ask you a few questions and try to get a good idea of what happened to you."

"Okay." Finn said, weakly. He nodded even weaker.

They started with easy questions, Finn was asked the date that the incident had taken place in and he'd given two dates; one for the start of the party and one for the morning it had happened. He told them the make of his car and the license plate number. They danced around the more harder questions for a few minutes and for that, Finn was grateful. Unfortunately, it didn't last long.

"Can you tell me what you had been doing before you left the party?" Officer Thompson asked.

"I, uh, I was talking to my friends." Finn said. "I – I told them I was leaving. One of my friends offered to come with me but I said no."

"Why?" Officer Hobbs asked. His question was like ice.

"Why what?" Finn asked, his brow furrowed.

"Why didn't you let your friend go with you?" Hobbs asked. "Wouldn't it have been better for you in the long run?"

"I -" Finn shook his head, unsure of how to respond to that. "He wanted to stay at the party."

"Okay." Hobbs mumbled.

"And after that," Thompson said. "What happened?"

"I went out to my car," Finn said. "And that's when – when one of the... the guys approached me."

"And he asked you for a ride?" Thompson asked, still writing down what Finn had just said.

"He did."

"And you said?"

"Yes."

"Weren't you warned against giving strangers rides?" Hobbs asked. "Why would you agree to give drive a complete stranger home?"

"I thought he was friends with someone I knew." Finn said. "He said that – that he and his friend were drunk, so I said yes to the ride."

"Had you been drinking too?" Thompson asked.

"I had a beer or two," Finn said. "Is that important?"

"Where you drunk?" Hobbs asked.

"No, I was – I was mostly sober." Finn said. "I was – I could still drive."

"Okay," Thompson said, then. "What happened after you agreed to drive them?"

"We – We got in the car." Finn said. "One of the guys, he told me to where to go. I – I followed his directions until we – until we got to the dirt road and -"

He shook his head then. He didn't want to talk about it. He didn't want to drag it up when it had only just been buried. How was this fair? He had to damage himself further just to find the people who had caused him so much strife? He would have rather let the people responsible get away with what they had done to him. It would be easier this way.

"And then they attacked you?" Thompson asked.

Finn released a shaky breath. "Yeah."

"Do you remember what happened?" Thompson asked.

"No." Finn said.

"Not a single thing?" Thompson asked.

"I just remember that they kept punching me." Finn said.

Hobbs scoffed, quietly. Finn looked at him and then back to Thompson. The senior officer didn't seem to care that Hobbs was acting differently than he should. Finn wondered if either of them were taking him seriously.

This _was_ serious... right?

"They took your bankcard and car?" Thompson asked.

"Yes." Finn said. "And – And they tossed my phone."

"Is that important?" Thompson asked.

"No, I just -" Finn began.

"We only need relevant information." Thompson said. "Do you know why they choose to target you?"

"I don't know." Finn said. "Maybe – Maybe they were waiting for whoever owned my car?"

"Maybe." Thompson echoed. "You're not involved in drugs, right?"

"What?" Finn asked. "N-No. There was – There was nothing like that involved."

"I just find it odd that they would choose to target you, randomly, out of everyone who was at that party." Thompson said. "There must have been about two dozen cars there that would have been worth just as much as yours, maybe more. Why was it you, out of everyone?"

"I don't – I don't know." Finn said. "I was just trying to go home. They – They approached me."

"Okay." Thompson wrote something else down. "Why don't we talk about their appearance. What did they look like?"

"I don't -" Finn paused. He realised that he must have sounded so stupid. He didn't remember anything, he didn't know why he was targeted, and he didn't know what the guys even looked like save for two small details that would get them nowhere. He was stupid. "I don't remember. It was dark."

"I see." Thompson said. "You don't remember anything?"

"Just that -" He had to pause again. There was a lump in his throat and his chest hurt. "Just that one of them had a mole on his nose."

"That's it?" Thompson asked and Finn nodded.

There was a few moments of silence as Thompson finished writing things down. Finn dared a glance at Hobbs who wore a look of disgust. He was thinking the exact same thing that Finn was; that it was entirely Finn's fault. He had allowed those men into his car, he'd driven them to where they wanted to go, he'd given him access to his things, and they'd stolen his car and hurt him because he had allowed them to. This was his fault.

"Well, if that's all you have to say," Thompson said. "We're done here. We should be in contact in the next few days. We can keep you up to date with our progress but I do believe this case might be a dead end."

"Thank you." Finn mumbled, still using the manners his mother had taught him to.

"You're free to go." Thompson said.

Finn nodded and got up. He couldn't get out of the room quick enough and he almost ran down the hallway. When he reached Carole, she was slightly startled a the way he had been carrying himself and she stood up instantly, reaching up to delicately place a hand on his arm. Finn wanted to shrug it up, he didn't want her pity because it was his fault it had happened. Those who were guilty didn't deserve sympathy.

"Finn - " Carole started.

"I want to go home." Finn bit out, fighting back tears the whole time.

Carole saw them. She agreed and they left.

* * *

They ate dinner together, the four of them, that night. It was the first time they had done that in months. One of them was always busy; Burt with the tire shop, his mom with work, and Kurt always has something on. Finn was usually busy with football or his friends but right now, none of them had anything to keep them from the dinner. During the small talk, Finn found out that his mom just so happened to get a week's holiday and Burt just so happened to close the tire shop early and Kurt just so happened to get a phone call from Mercedes, letting him know that their plans for that evening were cancelled. It was all to convenient for Finn's liking but, he thought, maybe it was better this way than having them avoid him.

The thing was, the atmosphere wa tense. It could have been cut with a knife and it was something that had been palpable ever since Finn came home from the hospital. They all sit there, at the battered wooden table, with plates of chicken carbonara that Kurt and his mom made together. Finn hadn't eaten any of his, simply because he knew that any chewing would hurt and if he made that obvious, then things would get awkward for everyone.

But they already were awkward, a small voice told him, so he might as well try and pretend that he had an appetite.

He had just managed to get a mouthful of chicken and spaghetti when the atmosphere swelled to it's breaking point and Burt set down his cutlery. Next, his hand was flat on the table, accompanied by the banging sound and Finn froze where he was, feeling sick all of a sudden. He dropped the fork, and everything that was on it, back on his plate. Carole and Kurt also looked up at him.

"I just need to come out with it," Burt said, as though it was some long kept secret. He looked directly at Finn as he spoke. "We're gonna catch the bastards who did this to you and they're gonna pay."

Finn could feel the bile rising in his throat. This could't be happening. He knew that Burt meant well, he was angry that someone in his family had gotten hurt and he wanted justice. He meant well but Finn wanted the ground to swallow him up whole.

"Honey," Carole said, gently. She placed a hand on Burt's arm. "I don't think this is the best conversation to have right now."

"And when should we have it?" Burt asked her and then turned back to Finn. "Those guys are gonna regret what they did."

Finn knew that they were expecting him to say something, they all looked him. Or almost all of them. Kurt didn't and Finn wanted to know why that was but he didn't have the ability to ask right now. He'd make sure to bring it up later, if he had the mental capacity to deal with that. Still, he had an audience to entertain.

"They took the car." he mumbled. His jaw still hurt.

"Who cares about the car?" Burt said, snapped.

"Burt," Carole said, warned.

Finn's cheeks had flamed red and he realised he couldn't stay there any longer. He stood up abruptly, his chair scraping against the floor and the three members of his family looked up at him. He didn't want the attention, he wanted them to stop looking, to stop worrying, to stop.

"I'm not hungry." he said.

* * *

He'd stormed out of the house despite the fact that Finn didn't have a flare for the dramatic. He couldn't handle being in there, not with his family, not when they were looking at him like that. It made him feel sick, it only drove home the point that he didn't deserve this attention, this sympathy, because he had brought this one himself. He wanted to run away and never face them again, he wanted to escape the pitiful looks and the empty promises of justice.

The night air was cool and crisp and Finn walked until he found a small, weathered park. He'd gone there plenty of times as a child. His mother had taken him and when he'd gotten old enough, he'd gone with just his friends. Now, he was there alone, sitting on one of the half broken swings that he was most certainly too big for now. Due to the time, there was no one else there and due to that, there was a sliver of fear in his gut.

And due to the miracles of the twenty first century and insurance policies, he had managed to get a new phone and get all of his contacts back. He'd texted the only person he knew he could talk to right now, someone he had been ignoring for the past few days.

"What are you doing here, dude?" Sam asked as he came over.

He was wearing his letterman jacket, his hands deep in the pockets, and a look of concern etched onto his features. He stood in front of Finn, about half a foot from him.

"I had to get out of the house." Finn said. He couldn't look Sam in the eye.

"And where have you been for the past few days?" Sam asked.

Finn shook his head. He couldn't talk about it.

"Kurt told us, dude," Sam said and he took a seat on the swing next to Finn. "And I feel like shit, one of us should have gone with you."

"It's fine." Finn said, with half a shrug. "It's not your fault."

"But I'm your best friend, I should have helped -" Sam began.

"Sam," Finn cut him off. "I can't deal with this right now."

Sam looked hurt by that but he managed to quickly hide it. He wrapped his hands around the swing's chain. "So, why'd you ask me to meet you here then?"

"I don't know." Finn said. "Everybody at home is acting weird around me and I just, I can't deal with it."

"You know they're just worried about you." Sam said. "They're your family, they're gonna be weird about this."

"I don't want them to be." Finn admitted.

Sam sighed. He didn't know what to say. In truth, there was nothing he could say. It wasn't everyday that your best friend ended up the victim of a violent attack that left everyone feeling weird around him. Sam understood where Finn's family were coming from. He too felt a little weird about it all. He didn't know how to help.

"Look," he said. "Mike and Artie and I have decided that we're gonna find the guys who did this and kick their asses. No one messes with our friend and gets away with it."

Finn looked up at him, finally allowing Sam to see the bruises that marred his skin for the first time. He felt a weird itch in the stitches that were in his temple. A dull ache spread in his head and he suddenly felt tired. He appreciated Sam's sentiment but he couldn't deal with this. He couldn't handle people feeling sorry for him and trying to make this right. It couldn't be made right and everyone forcing a solution wasn't helping. He just wanted to forget that it had happened.

"You don't have to do that." Finn said. "I _don't_ want you to do that."

"What then?" Sam asked. "We do nothing? We let them get away with this?"

"How are you supposed to find them?" Finn asked.

"Tell me what they looked like." Sam said. "It's easy to find scum that way."

Finn shook his head. "I don't remember what they looked like."

Sam looked at him for a moment and then he shook his head. "It doesn't matter, we know what your car looks like. We find that and then we find them."

"I don't want that." Finn said.

"Then what do you want?" Sam asked. "Because there's no way you would have called me in the middle of the night if you didn't want something like that."

"I just want my best friend to forget it happened." Finn said. "I want you to help me forget."

"I'm sorry Finn, I can't do that." Sam said. "You got hurt and I wasn't there to stop it from happening. What kind of best friend am I if I let that go?"

"Not a good one." Finn said.

Again, Sam looked hurt by that but Finn couldn't handle it. There suddenly felt like a huge weight was on his shoulders, baring down and down, and he couldn't breathe. He stood up from the swing and began to walk away, ignoring Sam's protests. It had been a mistake to ask Sam to meet him and it was an even bigger mistake to think that Sam, of all people, would have been okay with the idea that this whole thing could be let go.

It was a mistake on Finn's part for thinking that it was something that could be let go. He knew it was serious, it was an assault, it was an assault that had left him without a car and in the hospital and everyone was reacting to that they way they were supposed to. But for Finn, it wasn't the right way. He wanted it to just be a smudge on his life that couldn't exactly be wiped away but was small enough that no one would notice it was there. He wanted it to fade from view the same way his bruises would. He needed that and no one was giving it to him.

The walk home was far quicker than his original walk to the park was and when he entered the house, it was silent. He could hear a tv playing in the background but he knew his parents weren't really watching it. Burt and Carole would be sat in the living room, impatiently waiting for his arrival so that they could bombard him with questions. They would ask if he was okay and they would want to know how he felt and quite frankly? Finn didn't know how to tell them that he wasn't okay, that he couldn't get past this and that because they refused to let it go, it meant he couldn't either.

So, as soon as he heard the sound of movement, he had took off, going up the stairs two at a time and at a speed he hadn't thought quite possible. He had just managed to get into his room when he heard his mother call his name but he ignored her and slammed the door shut. He needed to be alone, he needed to be away from all of the noise and just be safe in his own head for a moment.

But his head wasn't a safe space because every time he was alone long enough to thing, he was reminded of what had happened. He was reminded of the fear that had made his palms slick with sweat, he was reminded of the many times a set of knuckles had slammed into his face, the way he had been left to die, the idea that he might die and then the even startling accepting of the fact that he would die. He wasn't sure how to tell anyone that he had been okay with the idea of dying, so long as his mother got her goodbye.

He'd stumbled into the middle of his room by now, his hand reaching for his desk but he missed and ended up crumbled on the middle of the floor, tears streaming down his face before he could even realise they had fallen. He wasn't sure what was going on but he couldn't breathe and the world spun and he was pretty sure this was the end. He was sure that with the way the world blurred and his vision swam that he was finally getting the chance to let it all go. His hand pressed against his bedroom floor and a sobbed ripped through his broken breaths.

It dawned on him then that he was having a panic attack.

He hadn't been aware that those were things guys like him could have. He'd heard that they were a side effect of anxiety but he'd never had anxiety so bad that he had been reduced to a sobbing, hyperventilating mess on his bedroom floor. But it wasn't just anxiety that caused them, no. They'd been taught about this in a class he hadn't paid attention too, he had been too interested in Mike quietly telling him the details of a hook up he had had. So, he racked his brain in an attempt to find the cause. It wasn't anxiety, it wasn't depression, it was something else, another thing he'd been told about, it was -

Post Traumatic Stress.

The words fill his mind and he began to shake even more, feeling more sick than he usually did. He tried to find something to reach out and grab onto but there was nothing there and he was floating through nothingness and he had to close his eyes because the world have began to spin much faster than he had been prepared for. The over exaggerated thought of dying slipped into his mind once more and he was all but ready to accept that when -

It ended.

The panic and terror receded from him just enough that he wasn't freaking out anymore. It was still there, lodged in the cavity of his chest, next to his sternum, but it was smaller now, the size of a pebble. He was still crying, large tears falling down his cheeks and his breathing hadn't returned to normal but he was calmer, he didn't feel as scared. With a still shaking hand, he reached up and wiped the tears from his eyes.

It was going to be okay. It had to be.

Eventually, Finn pulled himself up from the floor and into the bathroom. It was simply a case of splashing some cold water on his face to try and rid himself of the tear tracks and puffy eyes. The most he succeeded in doing was aggravating his bruises. Slowly, Finn reached up and touched the line of stitches. There was a brief moment in which he wondered what it would have been like to pull them out, to rid himself of them. He'd probably bleed, a lot. There was a reason as to why he'd gotten them in the first place and now wasn't the time to think about ripping them out and making matters worse for himself.

Once he was finished in the bathroom, he left, going back into his room and looking around. It was the same room he'd been in since the family bought a bigger house, so that he could have his own room. Various band posters hung on the walls and there was a trophy sitting on a shelf, they only sign that he had achieved something during his time at high school

And there, on his desk, was the acceptance letter to Ohio University. The scholarship he'd worked so hard to get so that he wouldn't bankrupt his parents and as he looked at it, a single word filled his head.

 _No._

He couldn't do it. He knew he couldn't. Maybe his reaction was the stress of school mingling in with his trauma but Finn knew that, when September came around, there was no way he was going to be able to go to the university and be a normal student. It seemed that the entirety of Ohio had been tainted for it, ruined by one incident that happened in about an hour on one Saturday night. It was something that should never have happened and yet, Finn's hands hadn't stopped shaking either.

Suddenly, he felt thirsty.

He left his bedroom slowly, waiting to hear if anyone was on the prowl, if he would be ambushed the second he left. He couldn't hear anyone walking around, so he left his room and made his way downstairs. He passed by the living room on his way to the kitchen and only spared a quick glance in. Burt and Carole were still there, sitting with each other and watching some cooking show. They hadn't seemed to realise that he'd drifted past them and that was good enough for Finn.

Once in the kitchen, Finn opened the fridge and got out some orange juice. He took a long gulp of it, inviting in the tangy taste and then he dropped the carton on the counter. When he looked up, he choked on the remnants of the juice when he saw Kurt standing in the doorway. He'd appeared quickly, as though he were a ghost.

"What the hell, man?" Finn asked. "You can't sneak up on me like that."

Kurt looked guilty for half a moment and then decided better than to dive into the deeper meaning of Finn's words. He had something else he wanted to talk about, much to Finn's chagrin.

"Are you okay?" he asked. Although he looked stern, his voice carried a gentleness to it that suggested otherwise.

"I'm fine." Finn said, his hand gripping the counter.

"Finn," Kurt said. "My room is next to yours, I heard you."

Finn felt sick then. He had thought he'd gotten away with that but apparently, he hadn't. "Oh."

"Do you want to talk about it?" Kurt asked.

Finn shook his head. He remembered when Kurt had gotten bullied, the way he had reacted to that when they had all found out. He had broken down, crying, and Burt and Carole had comforted him at different times. It might have been wrong of him but Finn envied that. When Kurt had been getting bullied, he had had the secrecy at first. No one knew, or no one assumed it was as bad it was. Almost all of the kids at McKinley got bullied, even Finn had dealt with his fair share of it but none of it had been as bad as Kurt's had been. And Kurt had had a time when no one realised that.

With this, everyone had found out right away and Finn had been thrust into a spotlight he didn't want to be in. He felt sick, both because of the panic still left in him and for wishing himself in the terrible place Kurt had been in. He wanted a veil of secrecy, one that would have kept him safe but he hadn't gotten it.

"I don't." Finn said, firmly.

"You're trying to ignore this but -" Kurt started.

"I know." Finn cut him off. "I know I can't escape this and I know I need to deal with it but I _can't_."

Kurt sighed and crossed his arms. "Are you just going to go through life pretending it never happened?"

Finn shrugged. "If I tell you something, can you promise not to tell my mom?"

Kurt's features softened slightly as his brow dipped. "I can't make that promise. But tell me anyway."

Finn sighed. "I don't think I can go."

"Go where?" Kurt asked.

"To Ohio." Finn said.

Kurt took a moment to understand. "What makes you think that?"

Finn shrugged, shook his head. "I don't know. I just thought about having to deal with school on top of all of this and I wanted to throw up."

"Is that why you had the, uh, panic attack?" Kurt asked.

"No, that's just cause I thought of what happened but -" Finn took a moment to breathe. "I can't do it."

Kurt sighed, softly. "This is something you need to tell our parents about. You know they'll understand."

"They won't understand." Finn said. "I'm not war vet."

Kurt's eyes narrowed in confusion. "You're not a... war vet? What does that even mean?"

"They get PTSD, right?" Finn asked.

"Oh," Kurt nodded. "Finn, it's not _just_ soldiers who get PTSD."

Finn took in a few deep breaths. He couldn't have another panic attack, he'd just had one. Wasn't there some kind of daily limit on those things?

"But -" Finn started.

"You were a victim of a violent assault," Kurt said. "You're going to have PTSD, there's no getting around it."

Finn sucked in a shaky, broken breath. "How do I tell them?"

Kurt thought about it for a moment. "We can do it together."

Finn nodded. "Okay."

Within seconds, he and Kurt were in the living room, in front of their parents. The tv was off, or the volume had been turned down, and both of them wore a worried expression. Finn realised, moments after he'd done it, that he was attempting to appear smaller, to take up less space, which was quite a feat for someone who was six foot three.

"Boys," Burt asked. "What's going on?"

No one spoke for a moment.

"Finn?" Carole prompted.

"Finn has something he needs to say." Kurt said and then looked at him.

Finn realised then that they were all looking at him and his cheeks began to grow warmer. He shifted where he stood, wringing his hands as he did. There was no escaping it now, Kurt had thrown him into a landfill and there was no plausible excuse he could use to get out of this.

"I don't think I can go to school in September." he said.

There was a moment of silence as Burt and Carole registered and understood what he said. They seemed to think about it for a long time and when they realised what it meant, they looked at each other. Finn expected disappointed looks, he expected them to get mad at him. He _needed_ them to get mad at him. He, they hadn't worked their asses off for the past four years just so Finn could flush it down the drain.

"Okay." Carole said and she wore the most sickening look of understanding that Finn had ever seen. "If that's what you need right now, then we understand. You can defer your enrolment."

Finn wanted to cry. He wanted to punch the wall until his knuckles bled.

"I can't." he said.

"Honey, they let you do that." Carole said, seemingly misunderstanding what it was he meant. "And then you can go next year or the year after."

"Yeah, totally," Burt backed her up. "A buddy of mine did that and he was better off for it."

Finn's eyes stung with tears and he could feel the same panic build in his chest. He didn't think they could understand. He wanted to run then, to get out of the room, but he was rooted to the spot. He had to make them understand.

"I can't go at all." he finally said. "I just thought about it and the idea of going, of being there, I -"

"He just had a panic attack." Kurt filled in. "And it's probably not the best idea to pile on all of the natural stress and anxiety that comes with school on top of the trauma he already has."

Finn shot Kurt a betrayed look but when he looked back at their parents, they weren't regarding him as though he were some alien creature. They seemed to understand or understand better than they had when Finn tried to explain it anyway.

"That's okay." Carole said, nodding. She looked as though she were going to cry. Finn hated doing that to her. "You don't have to go if you can't do it. We understand."

"Mom," Finn mumbled.

"We understand." Burt echoed and took Carole's hand. "And, if I'm being honest, Ohio isn't even the best school out there."

Finn tried to force a smile but it just looked like a grimace. Kurt gently touched his arm for reassurance.

"And, we can pool in our savings." Carole said. "There are a few good counselling places that could help. If the worst comes to the worst, we can even reach out to a therapist."

"No." Finn said without thinking. "I can't – I don't think I can do that."

Carole nodded but she didn't seem okay with this option. "What do you want to do then?" she asked.

Finn didn't have an answer to that. He had no options now and he was lost. Kurt, on the other hand, had an answer ready to go.

"We decided," he said. "That Finn will come to New York with me when I go to NYADA."

Everyone looked at Kurt then. Finn couldn't help the dumbfounded expression on his face which, thankfully, went unnoticed by their parents. They most certainly hadn't decided that but it wasn't a bad idea either. It would give Finn the chance at escape that he had always wanted.

"Really?" Burt asked, incredulous to the whole idea.

"Definitely." Kurt said. "The way I see it, with two of us, it'll be easier to afford an apartment and I need someone to help my carry my luggage around, anyway. Plus, New York is a great place for second chances."

Despite his explanation, Burt and Carole still didn't seem convinced.

"I don't know," Carole said. She was hesitant simply because if it were true, she would have to allow Finn to be out of her life for the first time in almost nineteen years. They'd been inseparable ever since his birth and with everything that had happened recently, she wasn't too eager to let him go. "Is this what you want?"

Finn realised she was asking him. He looked between her, Kurt, and Burt and thought about it. He didn't believe or like the way Kurt had described it. He didn't need a second chance, he just needed a place where it would be easier for him to forget what happened and move on. New York had never been his dream, that had been Kurt's from the beginning, and while it wasn't a football scholarship and a teaching degree, it was a fresh start. It was a new beginning.

So, he nodded.

"Yeah," he said. "I'm gonna go to New York with Kurt."


	3. Act Two

**I'm kinda disappointed in myself for not being able to get this posted sooner. I was hoping to get it out as quickly as I had the previous two chapters but I kinda failed their. But I did manage to finish this, the night before my last exam as well, and I'm glad for it. I'm really happy with how the second half of this chapter turned out and we _finally_ get the second half of Finchel. **

**As always, feedback is appreciated.**

 **tw: Brody/Brochel**

* * *

New York was just a city. Kurt would kill him for thinking that but Finn wasn't the one who had spend most of his young adult life dreaming about running to the place. From what he could tell, Kurt was enamoured instantly by the place when they got off the train. He was wide eyed and gasping and Finn had been left to drag what was left of their luggage as they walked. Finn didn't quite get Kurt's enthusiasm, considering that they'd been here twice since Finn had decided that he'd come with Kurt. They'd made the trip down so that they could go apartment hunting. In the end, they'd only been able to afford a shoebox apartment that was two sub rides away from NYADA and times square and while it wasn't the best place to live, it was better than nothing.

The apartment was made up of three rooms. There was a bathroom with a shower that looked a little broken, a bedroom with a twin sized bed, and the final room was simply just a living room and kitchen all rolled into one. There had been a small fight over who got the bedroom, mostly because Finn insisted that Kurt should have it since he was going to school and Finn was doing... well, _nothing_. Eventually, they settled on alternating.

New York wasn't a bad place, though Finn decided he'd need longer than two short trips and the entire first day that they had been there to really make a good judgement. Kurt was happy, however, which meant that this was going to be just fine.

And perhaps one of the best things about all of this was that, in the time it had taken to finally move here, Finn's bruises had turned into a light shade of yellow, slowly fading from existence. He was a couple days off from getting the stitches removed but overall, it was good. Once all of the physical reminders were gone, then Finn was sure he would be able to move on.

"What should we have for dinner?" Kurt asked as he walked into the room.

Finn was on the sofa, one leg tucked underneath and his eyes blankly watching a basketball game. He had almost missed Kurt coming in because his footsteps were so light. He decided he'd need to talk to Kurt about that; he had a thing about people sneaking up on him now but he was sure it wasn't related to his incident.

"Huh?" he asked and then shook his head. "Whatever. I'll eat whatever."

Kurt sighed, a long drawn out sound. "Choose: pizza or Chinese."

Finn rolled his head over to look at Kurt. "Both."

"That's not a choice." Kurt accused.

"I don't want to make a choice." Finn said.

"Fine." Kurt sat down next to him. " _I'll_ choose for us."

"Thanks, lil bro." Finn said.

Kurt looked down at the menus in his hands for, perhaps, a minute before he looked back up at Finn, to the stitches on his temple. He bit his lip for a moment, wondering how to easily bring it up. There really wasn't an easy way to bring up the attack that had left his brother emotionally, mentally, and physically battered.

"When do you go to the hospital?" he asked.

Finn froze and then shrugged. "Couple of days."

"It should be fine." Kurt said. "Just a few snips and it'll be over."

Finn reached up, almost touched the sutures, and then dropped his hand in his lap. "Should I do something?"

"Excuse me?" Kurt asked, confused. "Like what?"

"Like," Finn shrugged. "Get a job or something."

Kurt raised an eyebrow. This had been the first time something like that had been brought up between them. In the rush to get packed and move here, they had never once considered what it was Finn would be doing once they got here. Kurt had assumed that it would have taken a long time for Finn to be able to do anything but yet, here he was, surprised by Finn's words.

(Kurt didn't want to get ahead of himself, however, he still knew that Finn was forcing himself to pretend that everything was okay.)

"That's not a bad idea." Kurt said. "We could make you a resume. And my dad would be more than happy to provide a reference letter. That's if he manages to work the computer. God knows I've tried teaching him but you know how the older generation are."

Finn nodded, numbly. He wasn't really listening. His could feel the cold hand of panic squeeze his heart as he thought about trying to do anything. It was definitely far too early but Finn was determined that he was going to brute force his way through this and force himself to get better. This first step was just that: the first leap into the deep end of the pool. Finn figured it was a good thing that he was tall.

"Are you listening to me?" Kurt asked.

"What?" Finn asked. "No, I, uh, wasn't."

"I said," Kurt said and while it was something that should have caused him to get angry, he sounded more patient than anything else. Finn supposed he was beyond lucky to have Kurt in his life. "We could look for tire shops around here, you have experience and nowadays, experience is everything. That is, of course, if you're okay being around cars..."

Finn scoffed, a much harsher sound than he'd intended it to be. "Of course I am. Why wouldn't I be?"

"I just thought that with everything that happened, you might not be so keen on working around vehicles." Kurt explained. "That's all."

"I can be around cars." Finn deadpanned. "I'm not _that_ unstable."

Kurt had a look on his face that suggested that he wanted to argue but he didn't. He seemed resigned to the fact that no matter what he said, Finn was going to find some way to counter it and try to prove that he was okay. Kurt was surprised Finn had taken to walking around the streets and telling everyone he met that he was okay, just to prove a point. There was no way to break through to Finn yet, so Kurt had to be resigned to just letting him do what he wanted to.

"Fine." Kurt said. "I can call my dad and get him to write up a letter. It should take a day or so but then we can go out and look for places to hand in your resume. Plus, I'll get to explore New York and that's always a win in my book."

"Are you using me to look around New York?" Finn asked.

Kurt shrugged, sheepishly. "It's killing two birds with one stone."

Finn nodded. "Love you too, little brother."

"Oh, come on," Kurt said. "You know I care about you but you also know how much I love New York. It's good for both of us."

"It is." Finn agreed.

"I'm gad we're on the same page." Kurt said. "I think I'll order Chinese."

Finn watched then as Kurt got up, the menus still clutched in his hand, and left the room almost as quickly as he had entered. He figured that Kurt was right. This was going to be good.

* * *

It took three days of back and forth between Kurt and Burt to finally get the letter of recommendation. It had taken Kurt an hour to help Finn write up his resume and it had taken them an entire day of walking the streets of New York to find enough places to hand the resume into. By the end of it all, Finn was feeling slightly elated. It had been a good few days. With everything that had been going on, he had barely had the time to think about anything that had happened or how he was reacting to it. It was almost as if someone had come along and wiped it away from his memory.

But Finn wasn't naïve, he knew that it wasn't the easy to forget what had happened. It was just an awful case of attempting to tire himself out so much that he forgot to dream when he went to sleep. He knew that Kurt was having the time of his life being in New York and it showed. He was happier, he was brighter, he was always smiling. Finn liked that, he thought it was nice that one of them were having a good time.

He still hadn't found out why Kurt had thought him coming here would be a good idea. Sure, it was nice to be able to get away from the place where his life had been ruined and away from the constant reminders but it had been such a big leap. Finn didn't know where Kurt was coming from and he certainly found it hard to believe that Kurt would have just done it out of the goodness of his heart. That wasn't possible, right?

Finn had shuffled from the living room and through the small hallway, to stand outside of the bedroom. He leaned against the door frame and watched as Kurt mulled over some magazine he was subscribed to. Finn crossed his arms and then awkwardly cleared his throat.

"Oh, hey," Kurt said as he put the magazine down. "What's up?"

Finn shrugged. He wasn't sure how to say it without causing some sort of fight. Kurt raised an eyebrow questioningly.

"I just, I wanted to know what you were thinking." Finn said.

"Now?" Kurt asked.

"No." Finn said. "When you said I should come here with you."

"Oh, it was like I said." Kurt shrugged. "I need _someone_ to do the heavy lifting."

Finn set his jaw. He knew Kurt was joking. Kurt could see that he wasn't content with that answer.

"I just thought it was a good idea for you to be here." Kurt said. "Our parents aren't here, you're away from where it all happened. You're distancing yourself from it by being here."

"Oh right," Finn said. "So I can avoid embarrassing myself if I break down again."

Kurt sighed. "Has that happened since we got here?"

Finn scoffed. "No."

"You would talk to me if it did though, right?" Kurt asked.

Finn looked at him and Kurt looked back. They both knew what Finn's answer was and neither of them wanted to address it. Kurt wanted Finn to be able to come to him if he needed someone to talk to or if he needed some kind of distraction. He wouldn't admit it but he was upset that Finn felt like he couldn't come to him but then Kurt had to remind himself that this wasn't about him and that Finn wasn't going to _anyone_ when it came to this stuff. Now wasn't the time for him to be selfish.

"Well, that's fine." Kurt said. "I just hope you know that I'm here for you, should you need it."

Finn looked down to the space on the floor between his feet.

"Would you like to come to NYADA with me?" Kurt asked.

He looked up quickly then, almost giving himself whiplash. "What?"

"It's an tour." Kurt said. "I wanted to go to get a feel for the place. You could come with me and get out of this stuffy apartment."

Finn looked around at the door frame. "I hate this apartment."

"As do I." Kurt said. "But it's all we can afford. Maybe when we get jobs and somehow rake in thousands of dollars a month, we can find somewhere new to live."

"That's gonna take a while." Finn said.

"So, it's something to aspire to." Kurt said. "Are you coming with me or not?"

Finn sighed. "I suppose I am."

"It'll be fun." Kurt promised with a nod. "NYADA is a great school. Maybe you'll even want to join."

"I don't sing." Finn said.

Kurt waved him off and then got up. "It's about an hour subway ride. We should get going now if we want to make it in time."

"You know where we're going?" Finn asked.

Kurt scoffed. "Of course I do. I've only studied the direction about a _million_ times now."

Finn nodded, slightly admiring Kurt's confidence in his ability to get them there. It wasn't that Finn wanted to go see the prestigious school, he had no intention to ever attend NYADA, he hadn't even wanted to join the glee club that their school had had, it was just an excuse to get out. Their apartment was small which meant it got stuffy really quickly and it was uncomfortable. Finn knew he couldn't complain, however, it was the only apartment they could afford.

So, he made the two subway rides with Kurt and he followed Kurt's almost perfect directions and soon, they were face to face with a large and intimidating building. It looked more like an over glorified dance studio than a school but Finn figured that that was the point. It was a school for the dramatic arts, after all. The inside was full of hardwood floors and poised students and it was everything Finn knew he wasn't. He could even see that Kurt was carrying himself the same way the presumed students were. Finn, instead, was walking with almost a slouch, attempting to look as small as he possibly could.

He could feel his shoulders tense and his chest tighten too. He hadn't realised the effect of being around so many people would have on him.

Once they had gotten to NYADA, Kurt made them join a tour group and they were taken around the school with a group of people. The group mainly consisted of parents with their children, all of whom were looking to apply next year or the year after. Kurt was already a student, he'd be attending in just under a month and Finn was... well, he was _just_ Finn.

He didn't want to admit it to Kurt, but Finn found the entire thing utterly boring. He knew it probably had to do with the fact that he wasn't interested in the dramatic arts and he'd only come to escape the apartment. He also knew it'd be a little awkward if he were to just walk away while the tour leader was showing them something. The whole time they walked down a corridor, Finn was thinking about ways he could break away from the group and hang out in the cafeteria or even just outside, until Kurt was done.

His lucky break came when the group entered a dance studio – a proper one with the bar and mirrors and all – and Finn hung back, staying outside while the potential students marvelled at how high the standard things were at NYADA. Slowly, Finn backed away and he caught Kurt's eyes as he did. Kurt seemed to be the only person who noticed that he'd escaped from the group but instead of looking disappointed or forcing him to return, he simply gave Finn a wave of his hand, letting him know that he could run off.

And Finn was thankful for it. And Finn couldn't get away any quicker than he did. And Finn was ready to get out of the school when -

"Oh, excuse me," A melodic voice said from somewhere behind him. "Sorry, small girl with a huge stack of books coming through!"

Finn, slowly, turned around and saw the source of the voice. It was coming from a tiny girl who was holding a pile of books that were different sizes and lengths. She looked like she was struggling to hold them and it didn't help that the people she was attempting to get past were paying no heed to her. Finn had to admit, it was easy to miss her. Even with the heels she was wearing, she was still short, much shorter compared to him.

She was making her way down the hall, towards him, when another student came out from one of the dance halls. They weren't look in her direction and finally succeeded in knocking her stack of books from her hands. They didn't care when they clattered to the ground and they kept walking, following by their friends. Finn's mouth opened slightly, as though he were going to say anything but the words got stuck in his throat, dying there before they could be said. The girl pouted, clearly upset about what had happened, and then slowly crouched down to collect her things.

Finn knew that he could have turned away then and gone on with his life, he could have ignored her and left the corridor. But something told him he shouldn't, like some kind of invisible tether was tugging him towards her.

So, he closed the distance between them and knelt down in front of her. Silently, he began to collect her scattered books, noticing that they were of sheet music – and he only knew that because Kurt had so many.

"Oh," she gasped, softly. "Thank you."

"It's no -" He stopped when he looked up at her. She had large brown eyes, eyes that captivated him. "It's no problem."

She smiled, bashfully. "Most people wouldn't help."

"Yeah, well," Finn half shrugged as he picked up another lyric book. "That guy was an idiot. He didn't even apologise."

"I've come to expect that." She said.

There was something more to her words that Finn couldn't quite place but he knew it was right not to pry. He knew from personal experience what it was like to have people try to sink their claws into his business. It would have been hypocritical of him to attempt to make her do the same.

By now, they had gotten all of her books collected and they stood. Finn had half of her dropped items and she was clutching the other half to her chest. Her cheeks were a light shade of pink but Finn wasn't sure if he was mistaking her blush for an actual one.

"Thank you for helping me." She said, nodding.

"It's fine." He half smiled. It was the first time he'd done so in a while. "I know what it's like to drop stuff."

She chuckled, softly. "I suppose so."

"Yeah," he nodded.

"I, um, I'm Rachel." she said. "Rachel Berry."

Finn smiled. _Rachel_. It was nice.

"I'm Finn." he said. "Finn Hudson."

"So, Finn Hudson," Rachel smiled too. "Are you a student here?"

"Oh, no way." Finn shook his head. "I was just here with my brother. He asked me to come on this tour thing with him. It's whatever."

Rachel nodded. Her eyes flitted down to something other than his eyes, something else on his face. He realised it must have been the fading bruises. His cheeks turned bright red. He could only imagine the scenarios she was forming in her head about how he'd gotten them and he could feel his head swim with panic.

"That's a shame." She said. "I'm going to be a student here soon. I've been here every week since I got accepted and I know these halls better than any of the alumni would. I like to be prepared when these things happen. I need to be thorough so that I can reach my full potential."

Finn nodded as she spoke and he thought about Ohio University. He hadn't even seen the campus for there, he hadn't seen the building, or the football field, he'd just chosen that as his school because it was close to home and he'd gotten the scholarship. It had never occurred to him that coming early and scoping the place out was an option. It was either that or Rachel was as thorough as she was saying she was.

"That's cool." Finn said. "I guess you really like this school then?

"You could say it's my _dream_." She said and then, quickly added; "It's not. My dream is Broadway but this is the big step towards that."

Rachel was so sure of herself. Finn knew he wasn't. He began to grow anxious.

"Um, cool." he said, nodding. "You should take your books back."

"Oh, yeah." Rachel said. She seemed confused by his sudden change. "Um, I was actually heading to the cafeteria to get some coffee. Would you like to come with me?"

Finn wasn't sure if he needed to think about it or not. On the one hand, he hadn't felt this relaxed in a while and she was a pretty girl who _wanted_ to talk to him. And on the other hand... Well, Finn wasn't sure if there was even another hand.

"Um, yeah, I'll come with you." he said.

"Great!" She smiled brightly.

Still carrying half of her load, Finn followed Rachel as she took him down the corridor and then down another until they got to a staircase. After a quick trip down, they were in the cafeteria which wasn't too busy. There was only a handful of people there and that was nice. The place was peaceful and Finn couldn't think of anything better. Rachel ordered the coffee for them and he took her collection of books over to one of the many tables. She joined him a minute or so later, setting down the cups between them. She offered him a small smile as she removed her orange beanie and smoothed out her hair. Finn realised she was beautiful then.

"I know what you're thinking," Rachel said.

Finn's cheeks went red. "Huh?"

"Why I'm lugging around so many books." Rachel said and set her beanie down on the top of the stack. "I have full repertoires in my head, all memorised and I'm hoping to learn some more before the school year starts."

Finn let out a half sigh of relief. "Wow, that's impressive. I don't know what a repertoire is but, it's impressive."

Rachel smiled bashfully then, almost as though compliments had alluded her for some time now. She gently touched the coffee cup in front of her, her fingers dancing around the rim.

"I like being prepared." Rachel said. "It means that if something happens, I'll be ready for it."

"Anything?" Finn asked and then became afraid that he had said too much.

She looked up at him, one set of brown eyes to another, and she seemed to be searching for something. Finally, she settled her gaze on his fading bruises, the stitches next to his eye. Finn became uncomfortable, shifting where he sat and holding onto the coffee cup as though it were a life boat in the middle of a storm.

"I've talked so much about myself." Rachel said. "And we've only just met. You must think I'm just some crazy girl who spills her guts to whatever stranger she meets."

"I don't think that at all." Finn said. "I, kind of, like hearing you talk."

Once more, she was blushing. "Tell me about yourself, Finn Hudson." she said. "Why are you in New York, if you're not attending this amazing school?"

"Um," Finn glanced around for an escape. There was none. "I just moved here with my brother. He needed someone to do all of the heavy lifting."

Rachel not so subtly glanced to his arms. They were covered by the red hoodie he wore, which explained the fleck of disappointment in her eyes.

"You're close to your brother?" she asked.

"Kind of." Finn said. "He's my step-brother. My mom married his dad."

"Oh, that's nice." Rachel said. "I've always had a fondness for broken people forming a family."

The assumption hit him hard because some part of him knew that it was true. It was true and he could feel something flare up in his chest. It felt like anger but it felt more like fear.

"Who said I was broken?" he snapped.

She gasped softly, a small flash of fear in her eyes that made Finn instantly regret the tone he'd used.

"I'm sorry, I didn't mean to assume." she said.

"It's – It's fine." He said, attempting to backtrack as quickly as he could. "We were all a mess, so..."

Rachel nodded and then bit her lip. "Where are you from?"

"Ohio." Finn said.

"Really?" she asked. "My dads are from there."

"That's -" He paused. "Did you say _dads?"_

Rachel smiled. "Yes, I did. I have two dads."

"Oh," Finn said. "So, they're -"

"Homosexual? Of course." Rachel said. "Are you okay with that?"

"Yes, yes," Finn nodded. He pushed down the memories of the time when he'd had to adjust to it, pushed down the guilt he'd felt after all of the times he'd caused Kurt to hate who he was. He wasn't that boy anymore but he was still haunted by when he had been. He hated that he had been so judgemental, so quick to feed the fears others had, so eager to subscribe to what society had taught him. "I'm completely okay with it."

"That's nice." Rachel said. "Most people aren't."

"Most people are idiots." Finn said.

"Yes."

Rachel wasn't looking at him but at the liquid in her cup. She was preoccupied, her mind somewhere else, on something else. Or someone else. Finn wanted to reach out and ask her what she was thinking, he wanted to know her and he didn't know where that urge had come from. He hadn't realised how easy it was to talk to her. It might have been weird, seeing as they'd only known each other for a few minutes but those few minutes were far better than the years he'd spent with other people. He could tell that Rachel was going to be special to him, even if their time together ended here.

"May I ask something?" Rachel asked.

"Sure." Finn said.

"What happened?" She asked.

Finn narrowed his eyes. "What?"

"Your face, I mean." Rachel said. "I see you have some faded bruises and you have some stitches. I assume something happened?"

Finn felt like he was inches from touching a live wire, he was precariously close to danger. He thought about it, what happened, the way he'd allowed it all to happen. He thought about the way they'd hit him, the way each punch seemed to hurt more than the other, how he'd been so sure that he was going to die. How everything had been his own fault.

He couldn't tell Rachel that.

If he told her, she'd realise that he was some idiot, who allowed complete strangers into his car and give them the chance to beat him and steal his car. She would wrinkle her nose in disgust and take her books and her coffee and her ethereal essence and leave him alone. Finn didn't want that, he finally felt like he'd reached that star he'd been seeking the night of the attack.

"I was in an accident." he lied, far too easily.

"Oh," Rachel's eyebrows raised. "Car?"

"Yeah," Finn nodded. "My friend was driving. Some jerk behind us didn't hit the breaks and, well, it's not fun being hit in the face with the window."

"I can imagine so." Rachel said. "I'm sorry."

"It's fine." Finn said. "It was nothing. I'm fine."

"I'm glad you are." Rachel said. "And I know some tricks to be able to get rid of bruises faster, if you'd like to hear them?"

"Sure." Finn said.

She beamed at him and Finn felt sick with guilt. He'd lied to her. He'd lied right to her face and she had believed him. He wished she hadn't, he wished she had called him out and asked what really happened. Finn knew he would have told her if she had asked again. Finn knew he would tell her and that scared him.

"If you give me your number, then I can text you a list of some ointments and creams that can help." Rachel said. "I'm an actress, I know all about having to cover things up."

"Oh, cool." Finn said. "You can get the number from my phone, yeah?"

"I can." Rachel said.

Finn nodded and reached into his pocket to get his phone. He was kind of glad that he'd gotten a new one now, it was kind of a silver lining. He entered the password and then slid the phone over to Rachel, who took it as delicately as if it were a baby bird and now a phone at all. He watched her as she got his number and then programmed it into her own phone. His heart did something funny then, as if it had the wings of the baby bird from the metaphor.

"Okay," Rachel said and handed him his phone back. "I'll just need to check in my bathroom later tonight and see what I have on hand. Most of the stuff will be expensive though."

"I guessed as much." Finn said.

"And, um," Rachel bit her lip. "If you want to text me about anything else then... you can."

"I can?" he asked.

"I'd like for you to be my friend, Finn Hudson." she said, smiling.

Finn smiled too. A tingling feeling spread through his cheeks then, as though this were his first time smiling. He liked that, the idea of being her friend. He could call his mother now and tell her that he'd managed to make a friend here in New York. She'd be so proud of him.

"Wow, what's going on here?"

The voice was deep and it caused Rachel to turn her head quickly, her dark curls tumbling off her shoulder as she did. Finn looked in the direction she had and saw another guy. He looked slightly older than them both. He was conventionally attractive and suddenly, Finn felt awful about himself.

"Brody," Rachel said. "I didn't realise you'd be out so early."

"My class finished earlier." Brody said. He leaned down to press a kiss to the top of Rachel's head. Finn didn't miss the way she stiffened slightly as he did. "Who's your friend?"

"Um, Brody this is Finn. We just met." She said. "I dropped my books and he helped me pick them up."

"You are clumsy." Brody said, assertively.

It was almost as though he was _telling_ Rachel that she was clumsy, as opposed to her actually being like that. Finn knew that wasn't the case, not with the books anyway. He'd seen the other person walk into her but he didn't speak up, it wasn't his place.

"I know." Rachel said. "Finn, this is Brody. My boyfriend."

There it was, the catch Finn hadn't realised he'd been waiting for. It was preposterous to assume that a girl he'd just met minutes ago would be someone he could have a potential romantic relationship with. In fact, the idea of even being in a romantic relationship right now left Finn feeling like he'd been hit with a truck.

"It's nice to meet you." Finn said, out of politeness.

"Sure." Brody waved him off. "Let's go babe, I don't want to be late."

"Oh, okay." Rachel nodded and she stood up. "I'll see you around, Finn."

Finn nodded in response and watched her as she placed her beanie back on, then picked up her book. He glanced over to Brody, to see if he would help her with them but he wasn't looking at her anymore. He was looking elsewhere. When he looked back at Rachel, she offered him a kind smile. It caught him off guard and by the time he was attempting to return the favour, she had turned away from the table and joined her boyfriend, Brody. They were walking away from the table in a matter of minutes. Finn noted that Rachel hadn't even finished her coffee.

There was a few moments, after she was fully gone from his sight, that he felt like he was crashing. It felt as though the tide had risen and then, was slowly sinking back down. Finn realised that he was _sad_ that Rachel was gone.

He decided that he didn't want to think about it. He couldn't allowed himself to become attached to a girl he'd only spent a few seconds talking to. It was true that he tended to latch onto whoever he felt a connection to, Quinn had complained about it more than Finn had thought possibly, and he really didn't want to do that now. He couldn't drag someone like her into his mess. She had been right when she'd assume that he was broken.

He was.

* * *

"Well, I have got to say," Kurt said. "That was one of the most stunning schools I have ever seen. McKinley is _nothing_ compared to NYADA."

Finn had waited another half an hour before Kurt had finished with his tour. They were now sitting in a diner, splitting a pizza. Finn was midway through chewing some cheese when Kurt had started speaking. He hadn't stopped gushing about NYADA since they had met up and with each passing minute, he was finding new things to talk about. Finn didn't have the heart to tell him that he didn't care because Kurt looked so happy to be going to his dream school and he wasn't going to be the person who dashed Kurt's happiness. Not again.

"Well, McKinley was a dump." Finn said. "There was a whole week when Mike couldn't get into his locker because there was something up with the lock."

"That's what happens when you leave a school to be run by a bunch of incompetent fools." Kurt said, with a shaking of his head. He picked up a slice of pizza, surveyed it, and then began to pick off the pepperoni toppings.

"Principle Figgins was cool." Finn said. "So was Coach Beiste."

"Figgins was one of the worst things to happen to that school." Kurt said. "He did nothing to stop Karofsky. Even _Sue Sylvester_ tried."

"Well, it _was_ Lima." Finn said, with a weak shrug.

Kurt looked at him then, head slightly tilted. "Do you miss it?"

"School?" Finn asked. "No."

"Lima." Kurt gently corrected him. "Do you miss home?"

Finn didn't want to think about it. Lima had become synonymous with something he didn't want to remember and by thinking about it, he would be forcing himself to remember. He hadn't realised how easy it was to push everything down, deep down, until it was something he didn't have to focus on. When he'd been growing up, it had always been something that his mother had warned him not to do and up until now, Finn had done his best not to. Now, however, it was the only way he could cope.

And right now, Kurt was asking him something that caused Finn to fear the answer.

"I met someone." Finn said.

Kurt almost choked on his Diet Coke. "You _what_?"

"I met someone." Finn repeated.

"How?" Kurt asked. "We haven't been here that long."

"It was while you were doing the tour thing." Finn said. "It was a girl."

Kurt's eyebrow raised and he rested his elbows on the table, his chin placed in his hand. "And?"

Finn shrugged, suddenly embarrassed. His cheeks had turned a light shade of red and he looked away from Kurt, his brow furrowed. "Why does it matter?"

"You brought it up." Kurt said. "And you're blushing, that must mean it was _something_."

"It's _nothing_." Finn said, suddenly defensive. "She's going to the school or whatever."

"NYADA?" Kurt paused. "That's cool."

"She has a boyfriend."

"Ah."

"But it doesn't matter," Finn said. "Because it wasn't anything. She's just – I think she's a friend."

"That's nice." Kurt said. "I told you that coming here would be good for you. You've already made a friend."

Finn looked at Kurt for a moment. He kind of seemed a little patronising but Finn let it slide, simply because he knew Kurt was the reason he was no longer in Lima and that meant more to Finn than he cared to admit.

"I mean, she just offered to help me with some stuff for the bruises." Finn said, looking away as he did so.

"Oh," Kurt's expression became harder then. "You didn't tell her, did you?"

"No." Finn said, sharply. "I couldn't, I can't."

"It's not something to be ashamed of, Finn." Kurt said.

"But I am." Finn said. "I was weak and pathetic and -"

"Finn, Finn," Kurt said. "You are none of those things. It wasn't your fault."

Finn only shrugged in response. He didn't have anything else to say on the matter, simply because he felt tired and he wasn't in the mood to argue with Kurt over whether or not it was his fault. Finn had settled on his side of the argument when it had all happened and there was no one who could change his mind about it.

He thought about Rachel then, how she had been so eager and ambitious and _cute_ and how he was nothing like that. He'd seen how happy she had been when they were talking, when he listened to her dreams and aspirations, and he knew that if he showed her what a mess his head was, then she would be put off from it all and she would no longer want to be his friend and Finn didn't want that.

He wanted to be her friend, more than anything.

* * *

The sofa groaned and shifted beneath him as he tossed and turned. The air in the room was cool but when Finn sat up, panting, a cold sweat had spread over his forehead and down his spine. He couldn't exactly remember the dream he'd just had but it wasn't pleasant. That had been something that had been reoccurring recently, the nightmares. They did nothing for him but plunge him back into the night of his attack and further prove Kurt's point that he had PTSD. Finn didn't want to be like one of those old guys who had to stay in during the Fourth of July because the fireworks sent them spiralling.

But maybe, he'd have to be at a better point of recovery to even spiral in the first place.

Forcing himself up from the sofa, he walked across to where the kitchen was. It was merely one long room but Kurt had tried his best, with their limited budget, to make it seem as if it were two. It hadn't worked out too well but Finn couldn't condemn Kurt for trying, he was doing more than Finn was anyway.

He reached into the fridge and got out a bottle of water. He was slow as he removed the cap and then drank some and then some more until it was half empty. He set the bottle down on the counter, not bothering to put it back before he went back over to the sofa.

He could still feel the tendrils of sleep in him, the harsh grasp the nightmare had had and he could see it in his head, the night he'd been attacked. The nightmares were always a harsh reminder and they were shovels, digging up the feelings he was doing everything in his power to push down. As he sat there, he held his breath and waited to hear if Kurt was awake or if he'd been woken up. He hadn't and Finn was grateful for that. He didn't exactly feel like explaining it to Kurt right now, he was too tired.

In an attempt to get back to sleep, Finn lay back down but only succeeded in looking at the ceiling and making up invisible patterns in his head. The sofa itself wasn't the most comfortable thing in the world, so Finn found himself sitting up once more with nothing to do. His only option right now was to stay awake for long enough that he'd get tired and eventually pass out. It wasn't a good plan but Finn had never been good at plans. And, going against everything he'd been told about blue lights or whatever, he picked up his phone.

And in an instant, the atmosphere in the room changed. He'd gotten two texts, one sent rapidly after the other, and even with the light tremble in his hand, he was able to read them and figure out who had sent them – or _read_ since she had said her name in one.

 _ **(unknown)**_ I checked my bathroom cabinet and I have a few good options that could help you.

 _ **(unknown)**_ It's Rachel Berry.

Finn caught himself smiling when he read her name and then he read it again and again until the word was blurring in his mind and sounded funny. He couldn't decide if he was happy she had gotten back in touch so soon or if he was happy because she was talking to him. Either way, it was a good distraction from what was currently the battle in his head.

He worked quickly then to change her name and save her number in his phone and when he went back to re read the texts, he noticed something a little strange. She _had_ texted him only a few hours after they had spoken but both of the texts had been sent a little over twenty minutes ago. When he checked the time for the second time, he saw that it was almost three in the morning. It was none of his business but he wondered what it was she was doing that called for her to be up so late. Maybe she was just acting like a normal eighteen year old but everything about her had _screamed_ anything but normal.

But it was simply just a small inkling that meant nothing right now. Finn had decided that there was only one thing he could do. If she had sent them twenty minutes ago, then there was a good chance that she was still awake and that he still had the chance to have a conversation with her. Sure, it wasn't verbal but it was better than nothing.

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ Oh thank god, I thought you were just some strange person texting me about sketchy bathrooms.

Finn could feel anxiety churn his stomach and he read the text he sent a million times, trying to deduce if there was some way that could be misread weirdly or if it would cause her to be shocked and never want to talk to him again. The tremble in his hands got worse and he had to set the phone down on the coffee table, for fear that he would drop it.

After a few minutes, he was sure she wasn't going to text him back. After another minute, she did.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ Do you often get people talking to you about bathrooms?

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ No, no way.

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ Actually, there was this one time when I called my brother. It was weird.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ You call your brother when you're in the bathroom?

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ We're close?

Finn didn't get a text back right away and he began to fear that he had scared her away with his weird anecdotes and awful bathroom joke. He could already see their new friendship being broken down right before his very eyes and it was, as per usual, all of his fault. But then she _did_ text back.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ Why are you up so late?

There was a choice then, as he read the text. He could have told her the truth and admitted his lie from their previous conversation and run the risk that she would delete his number and never talk to him again. Or he could continue with a false pretence and keep the conversation going.

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ Couldn't sleep.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ Me too.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ You don't mind me texting you so late?

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ No. It's kind of nice, actually.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ That's sweet of you to say.

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ I kinda like talking to you.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ I do too, Finn Hudson.

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ You can just call me Finn, you know?

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ Can I?

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ Sure, it's what everyone calls me.

 _ **(from Rachel)**_ No, I mean, can I call you?

He didn't have to think about his answer. It had already been decided long before she'd even asked.

 _ **(to Rachel)**_ Of course.

Seconds later, his phone began to ring. Seconds later, he answered.

"Hey," he said, ignoring the way the last bits of sleep made him sound a little more gruff than usual.

"Hi," she said and he swore it sounded like she'd been crying. "Finn."

He smiled when he heard her say his name. There was something that caused his chest to bloom with warmth and a weird feeling of being _okay_. It was nice. He decided he liked it.

Finn decided that he liked Rachel.


	4. Act Three

**I get so impatient when I write and especially with this chapter because each time I wrote them interacting, I was just waiting for them to kiss before I realised that 1) it's _way_ too early for that and 2) I'm the person that can make that happen. We are, perhaps, getting closer to that moment, however. **

**Again, feeback is appreciated!**

* * *

Rachel was between his legs because that was the most comfortable place for her to be. His head was tilted back and he had his nose wrinkled up. Occasionally, she would touch his face with her ointment covered index finger, hum to herself, and then turn away from him. The small bathroom was cramped with the both of them in it and Finn's knees had begun to hurt around ten minutes ago from being pushed against the bathtub for so long. Rachel didn't seem to notice his discomfort as she was so engrossed in her task of testing which ointment would work best on him and Finn wasn't about to stop her while she seemed as focused as he was when he would change a tire.

After a few moments, she let out another hum, cleaned her hand on the towel that Kurt had cut up to be a cloth, and then placed her hands on her hips. Finn lifted his head and looked at her, waiting for her to say something while she looked at him. Something like that could have been awkward if it was anyone else but Finn found that the silence between them was comfortable. The corner of his mouth twitched up into a smile.

"I think the first one worked better." Rachel mused. She tilted her head to the side to survey her work further.

"You think?" Finn asked.

"It's going to take a few days of days of using it to find out." Rachel said. "Which is a moot point, because by then, the remainder of your bruises will have faded and we won't know if any of them have worked or even if they sped up the healing."

Finn's head couldn't keep up with everything she was say and all he could focus on was how she looked good for someone who had been awake until five am talking to him. He looked awful, with dark bags under his eyes and his sullen look that made the yellowed bruises look a lot worse than they actually were. On the bright side, he would be going to the hospital tomorrow to get his stitches removed.

"Cool." he said.

"I noticed that you have a lot of other face creams and skincare products in your cupboard." Rachel noted as she leaned over to gather up her items. "Do those belong to your brother?"

"Yeah," Finn said. "Kurt is, like, obsessed with his skincare -"

He stopped mid sentence when he noticed it. It was purple and blue and it had hues of red around the outside of it, or the small part of it Finn could see anyway. The short sleeve of her red dress had slid up ever so slightly and revealed the large and angry bruise that decorated her skin. It looked vaguely hand shaped. His brow furrowed and he tried to remember if he'd seen it there when they had first met before he realised he couldn't remember and also that he seemed to be an expert in bruises lately and because of that, he knew that the bruise was fresh. She'd just gotten it.

"As we all should be." Rachel said, as though she had assumed Finn had ended his sentence rather than stopping it. "It's disgusting when someone doesn't look after themselves and men shouldn't be afraid of some moisturiser, I can tell you that girls prefer it when a boy has smooth skin."

Finn didn't answer her because he was so caught up in what he was looking at. He couldn't quite wrap his mind around it, like he'd assumed he was the only person in the entire world who could get a bruise. Maybe it was because he didn't see Rachel as someone who would recreationally partake in hobbies that would leave her bruised. He could remember when Quinn would show up and have bruises from cheerleading but Rachel didn't seem like a cheerleader.

And then Finn remembered one thing from their conversation yesterday and that was her boyfriend, Brody. He didn't want to jump to conclusions and assume that it was, simply because he'd been rude and she had gotten a little more subdued when she was with him. Finn assumed that that was the norm because he'd been the same with Quinn – though he did remember Kurt telling him that their relationship had _reeked_ of emotional abuse but Finn was a dude, he couldn't get abused, right?

But this wasn't about him, it was about Rachel and her bruise.

"Hey," he said. "How do you know so much about this bruise stuff anyway?"

Rachel looked at him, for a brief moment, like he'd slapped her and _yikes,_ that wasn't a way he wanted to be looked at or a simile he wanted to entertain the idea of. She shrugged, quickly, and looked away from him almost as soon as she had looked at him.

"I'm a theatre kid." she said. "We need to learn all about this stuff. I know how to cover tattoos and how to make cuts out of makeup. I used to scare my dads when I would come home looking like I'd just been assaulted when, in fact, it was just stage make up."

Finn ignored the word _assaulted_ and swallowed the panic that became synonymous with it. "You know a lot, huh?"

"I like to be rigorous." Rachel said. "That way, I don't make mistakes."

Finn nodded, thinking about the mistake he'd made at Sam's party. "Does that work?"

Rachel thought about it and then she looked sad. "Sometimes."

Finn looked at her and decided he didn't like it when she looked sad. "I make mistakes all of the time."

"I don't believe that for a moment." Rachel said.

"No, it's true." Finn said. "I once thought a grilled cheese was my connection to God, who I don't even believe in."

Rachel let out a laugh. "That's ridiculous."

"I _know_." Finn agreed. "I was an idiot and everyone just let me do that for, like, a week."

Rachel shook her head. "Please tell me you threw it away."

"No, I ate it." Finn said. "And then ended up with food poisoning."

Rachel laughed again and Finn laughed with her. She had a nice laugh, one he wanted to hear more of.

"I'm sorry," she said. "But that really _is_ a mistake."

"It is." Finn agreed.

"One time," Rachel said. "My school held auditions for our glee club and there was a girl who I thought was better than me, so I sent her to a defunct crack house."

"No way," Finn said and she nodded. "How did you even know where a crack house _was_?"

Rachel smiled at him. "A star _never_ reveals her secrets."

"Well," Finn said. "I'm impressed."

"You're the only one who is." Rachel said. "They all got angry at me and I had to sorrowfully sing a ballad to let them know how I felt."

"They're just boring." Finn said.

Rachel looked away, bashfully. "Oh, but they were right."

Finn half smiled. "I walked down the hallway in my underwear once."

"Finn!" Rachel gasped. "Oh my god!"

"I'm serious!" he said. "I got slammed for it for weeks."

"Why would you do that?" she asked.

Finn shrugged. "I wanted to feel hot."

"You don't need to do that." Rachel said. "You _are_ hot."

Finn looked at her, his brow furrowed and she met his confused look with an embarrassed one and quickly looked away, to try and save herself. Quickly, she began to speak again.

"I bought fifteen tickets for Cats, the musical, from a homeless man." she said. "He charged my credit card by swiping his butt crack."

Finn laughed. "That's disgusting."

"I know!" Rachel said. "And I completely forgot that Cats had closed, so then I just looked like an idiot to everyone."

"Oh, you're not an idiot." Finn said. "An idiot is someone who lets two strangers -"

The front door slammed shut then, cutting him off and letting them both know that someone had just entered. Finn felt a cold chill run down his spine when he realised what he had been about to tell her. He supposed it was lucky that they were in the bathroom because he felt sick, suddenly.

"Finn?" Kurt called out.

"In here!" Finn said.

He looked at Rachel then and noticed she was eyeing him in an odd fashion. He was about to ask her why that was when Kurt appeared in the doorway. His eyebrow shot up and he began to smirk, reading way into the situation in front of him.

"Well, hello." he said.

Finn shook his head. "Rachel, this is my brother, Kurt."

"It's a pleasure to meet you!" Rachel reached over, holding a hand out to shake Kurt's hand.

Kurt returned the gesture. "And I you, Rachel."

"She was just showing me some ways to get rid of bruises." Finn explained.

"Oh, I see." Kurt crossed his arms. "I feel sorry for you, he knows nothing about skincare."

"It's fine." Rachel said. "He was a darling to work with."

Kurt looked at Finn, smirked, and then looked back to Rachel. "That's funny. Last time I tried to help him, he smacked the moist toilette out of my hand."

"Okay, _whatever._ " Finn said and then stood up.

Due to the small bathroom, he ended up chest to chest – or chest to torso – with Rachel and she let out a small _oh_ sound and he could feel his cheeks blush and they tried to manoeuvre past each other but only ended up closer together, until Finn finally managed to break free from their small bubble. When he looked back at Kurt, he wore an even bigger smirk.

"Uh, Rach, _Rachel_ , would you like to stay for dinner?" Finn asked, as casually as he could.

Rachel brushed her bangs from her eyes. "I would but I don't really eat meat."

"That's fine." Kurt said. "I found a _great_ take away place that has nice vegetarian and vegan options."

"Oh, well," Rachel looked at Finn. "If you want me to."

Finn blushed once more. "I would."

She nodded and bit her lip. "Okay."

"Great!" Kurt spoke a little louder than usual. "I'll go find the menu!"

* * *

Half an hour later, the three of them were in the living room, with the food Kurt had ordered for them from that fancy take away. Finn was sat on the sofa with Rachel next to him and she was mid conversation with Kurt. They both had struck up a rapport when they both found that the other knew just as much about Broadway as the other did. They seemed to be getting along great and Finn simply sat there, listening to what they were saying without having anything of substance to offer. He barely knew what half of the things they were talking about were and despite the amount of times Kurt had bugged him about it, Finn had never once listened to the many musicals that he had been asked to. It wasn't his thing but it was nice to see Kurt getting along with someone and Finn kinda liked the brightness in Rachel's eyes when she spoke about something she was so obviously passionate about. For a moment, he caught himself smiling absent mindedly at her while she gushed over some musical about a green girl.

Maybe it was jumping the gun but Finn had decided that he never wanted Rachel to leave his life. She was a force of nature he couldn't ignore. She was wild and strong and a whirlwind. She was a tornado.

"And then I had to clean green body paint from places I didn't even realise I had gotten it." Rachel said, with a short laugh. "Who knew you could get so much paint in your _ears_."

"Oh, I know _exactly_ what you mean." Kurt said. "There has been many a time I've dressed as Elphaba, to dramatically recreate _Defying Gravity_ and ended up spending hours in the bathroom washing the green paint off."

"Honestly, you think they would have found some new way or method to play the role without so much hassle." Rachel said and then sighed. "But I don't think the role would be worth it like that. The work is what makes it so much fun."

"Oh, god, I know." Kurt agreed. "I would bath in green paint if it meant I even got the chance to glimpse the lights of Broadway."

Rachel nodded in agreement. "I'm so glad you're going to be at NYADA with me. You're like, on the same level as me and that has never happened to me before."

"Oh, that's preposterous." Kurt said. "I'm sure there's other people out there who are like that."

"Well," Rachel looked at Finn for a moment too long. "There is my boyfriend, Brody."

"Boyfriend?" Kurt asked.

"Oh, yes." Rachel said. "We've been dating for three years now. It's... nice."

Finn turned away from her, unable to hide the grimace that crossed his features then. He wasn't sure if it was just plain jealousy that made him uneasy to hear Brody's name or that he was Rachel's boyfriend or if it was because of the earlier idea that had come to him. He thought about it, the more it made a little _too_ much sense.

Brody was a lot bigger than Rachel in many ways and he'd been rude to her when she had introduced him. It was quite possible that he was the kind of guy who got physical with their girlfriend in the worst way possible. Finn felt a little sick just thinking about it and he carefully set his plate down on the coffee table. He was thankful that neither Rachel nor Kurt seemed to notice his actions. He was especially thankful that Kurt didn't notice because he could imagine the lecture he would have gotten from him after Rachel left.

"I never asked," Kurt said. "How did you and Finn meet?"

Finn narrowed his eyes. He was sure he'd told Kurt that.

"Oh, well, your brother was a real gentleman and he helped me when some jerk made me drop my sheet music." Rachel explained. "We got a coffee and spent some time talking to each other after that and we became friends rather quickly."

"That's nice." Kurt said. "To be fair, our family was worried Finn would struggle to make friends here."

" _Thanks_." Finn hissed but only got a shrug from Kurt in response.

"No, I get it." Rachel said, putting her hand on his knee, which caught Finn off guard. "My dads were worried about the same thing but I can safely say that I have two new friends."

"And we're both flattered." Kurt said.

"I assume your parents were worried about him," Rachel gave Finn a quick look. "Because of the car accident?"

Finn felt like he'd just been punched in the gut as soon as she said it. He hadn't thought she would bring it up and there was a chance that Kurt could correct her and then he would be caught in his lies.

"Car accident?" Kurt asked.

"You know," Rachel looked at Finn. "The one you told me about?"

"Yeah," Finn said forcefully and then turned to Kurt. "You know, that thing that happened recently?"

Kurt looked confused for a moment before he nodded. "Oh, yes, _that._ " he said. "Well, we were all worried because of that but it seems like we don't have to be."

"That's so nice!" Rachel said, looking like she'd not noticed or brushed off the awkward exchange Kurt and Finn had just had. "And now you can tell your parents that everything is okay."

"Totally." Kurt nodded.

The conversation was brought to an end abruptly, when Rachel's phone began to vibrate loudly against the coffee table. She quickly set down her half eaten meal to pick it up and read the texts she had gotten. Finn watched her face, waiting for some sign that it was Brody and she was going to leave him for someone better and -

Where the hell had that come from? Finn didn't think about her romantically, right?

"Oh, it's my room mate." Rachel said. "I need to get home. She's having a crisis."

Finn relaxed at the pronoun _she_.

"And right as we were having so much fun." Kurt said.

"We can talk again soon." Rachel said. "I had a lot of fun talking to you, Kurt."

"So did I." Kurt said. "I'll have Finn give me your number so I can text you later."

"That'd be nice." Rachel said and stood up. "Thanks for the dinner, it was nice."

"You're welcome." Kurt said.

Finn realised then, that Rachel was leaving and that he didn't like the idea of her leaving so soon. He didn't want to be alone and he certainly didn't want to be alone when he knew that she could be someone who would keep him company. It didn't matter whether or not the jumbled mess of emotions he had right now where romantic or not. He thought she was nice. He liked hanging out with her and he didn't want to be away from her so soon.

Finn stood up then, abruptly enough that they both noticed. "I'll walk you to the door."

"Oh," Rachel said. "I'd like that."

They left the room together then, Finn ignoring the look Kurt gave him and Rachel with the small bag of items she had brought with her. They walked down the short hallway – which was far too short – and Finn opened the door for her. She stepped out of the apartment and then, turned to face him.

"Would you, um," She paused. "Would you like to walk me home?"

Finn took in a sharp breath. "I'd love to."

* * *

The New York air was humid enough that Finn was slightly reminded of home, of the summers he'd spent in Ohio, in Sam's backyard or Mike's house. It was almost enough to make him feel nostalgic but that was yet another emotion he had chosen to bury deep within him along with the others. Rachel walked beside him, her arms wrapped around herself. They had just gotten off the subway, which told Finn that there wasn't _that_ much of a distance between them.

(But really, who was he kidding? There was a distance but he was willing to convince himself that it was short.)

Again, the silence between them wasn't uncomfortable. It was, perhaps, one of the best silences he'd found himself in. Everything seemed to be easy around Rachel, it was like he was able to breathe a little more better than usual. He didn't want to think about what that actually meant.

When they did get to her apartment, he saw that it was _much_ nicer than the one he and Kurt shared. It wasn't in the best neighbourhood but a mere look at the building that housed her apartment told him that it was definitely worth it. Finn almost wanted to know what it would have been like to live here with her, to wake up every morning and have her be there, making breakfast or looking over her schoolwork. It would have been nice.

"This is the noisiest neighbourhood imaginable." Rachel told him. "but it is _so_ worth it for how nice this apartment is. I'm so lucky we managed to find it."

"You're probably really grateful for it, after seeing ours." Finn said.

Rachel shook her head. "No, not at all. Your apartment is quaint. It would be a stereotypical place for a newly married couple to move into while they try to start their lives."

"That's... one way to look at it." Finn said.

Rachel smiled at him and then pointed to a sliding door. "This is me."

"Cool." Finn said. "Well, you got home safe."

"Yeah," she nodded. "I had fun today."

"Me too." Finn said. "Nothing like spending two hours deciding which ointment is the best for bruises."

"It was your skin tone." Rachel argued. "It's different from mine."

"Oh, no, I get it." Finn said. "It was fun."

Rachel smiled and brushed some hair from off of her shoulder. "We should, uh, hang out again."

"That'd be nice." Finn agreed.

"Okay..." Rachel nodded. "I'll text you?"

"Yeah, yeah, sure." Finn said.

He took a step back, to turn and leave, but before he could make his big get away, the door behind them was yanked opened. Finn half expected to see Brody but instead, there was a Latina girl with curly back hair. She wore a tight dress and looked like she was ready to kill someone. Finn hoped it wasn't him. Or Rachel.

"Okay," she said. "Where is he?"

"What?" Rachel asked. "What are you talking about Santana?"

"The plastic Ken doll." The girl, Santana, said. "I heard you talking to a man and we both know that the only man that you're _allowed_ to talk to is him."

Rachel turned bright red. " _Santana_ , I was talking to Finn."

She motioned to him and Santana looked over to where he said. Finn attempted to come off as casual but only managed to look as awkward as he felt. She looked him over, like she was calculating all of his flaws and every embarrassing thing he'd ever done, before she crossed her arms over her chest.

"So, no donkey face?" Santana asked.

"That's my boyfriend, Santana." Rachel said.

She shrugged. "Where is he?"

"At practice." Rachel said.

"He's always at practice." Santana said. "Whatever. Get in here so that I can eat."

Rachel shook her head. "Are you not going to say hi to my friend?"

Santana, once more, looked at Finn. "Your friends with a giant?"

"People can't help their height." Rachel said.

"Point taken." Santana said. "Hi, Berry's friend."

"Much better." Rachel smiled. "Go back into the apartment, we can talk then."

Santana gave Rachel a wary look. "Fine. But we're seriously talking this time. No avoiding it."

"We will." Rachel reassured her.

Santana turned on her heel then and walked back into the apartment. Finn could hear her heels on the wooden floor for another few moments until she either sat down or was stood on softer ground. When he looked down at Rachel, she was shaking her head but wore a small smile.

"She's your room mate?" Finn asked.

"She is." Rachel said. "I know she seems like she can be a handful but she's really not."

"She was kinda mean." Finn said.

"Oh, she's just like that with people she doesn't know or trust." Rachel said. "She's actually a nice person and she cares about people, she just doesn't show it."

"Does she trust Brody?" Finn blurted out.

Rachel looked at him, shock making her eyes widen. "Oh, my god."

"Shit, um," Finn shook his head, embarrassed. "I should go. I'm gonna go. I'll see you later."

Without looking back, Finn ran from the apartment.

* * *

The hospital smelled strikingly like bleach. Finn couldn't shake the smell from his senses and it was the only thing he could concentrate on as he sat and waited. Beside him, Kurt sat with one leg crossed over the other. In his hands, he held a thick magazine that said _Vogue_ on the cover. Finn couldn't stop bouncing one of his own legs.

"Something that is truly interesting," Kurt said. "Is the way we're becoming more obsessed with fashionable items that we wore decades before we were born."

"Uh huh." Finn said but he wasn't listening.

"Like our obsession with clothes from the 90s." Kurt said.

"Cool." Finn said.

"Are you listening to me?" Kurt asked.

"Huh? What?" Finn asked. "Uh, no, sorry."

Kurt closed his magazine with a thump. "Are you nervous right now?"

"What gave you that idea?" Finn asked.

Without saying anything, Kurt reached over and put his hand against Finn's knee. Finn stopped bouncing his leg and looked at him.

"What?" he asked.

"This is _nothing_." Kurt said. "You're just getting your stitches taken out. It's nothing to be worried about."

"That's easy for you to say." Finn said.

"Would you like a distraction?" Kurt asked.

"Like what?" Finn asked.

"Oh, I don't know." Kurt grinned. "Tell me about Rachel."

Finn shot him an annoyed look. "There's nothing to say."

"You two seem pretty close already." Kurt said.

"We're friends." Finn said with a shrug.

"Hm," Kurt hummed. "Can I ask you something?"

"Sure." Finn said.

"What car accident was she talking about?" Kurt asked.

Finn froze and then looked over at Kurt. "I don't know what you mean."

"Oh, sure." Kurt said. "It's not as if you made a completely false story and lied to her."

Finn sighed. "What was I supposed to do? Tell her the truth and let her see that I'm an idiot?"

"No." Kurt said. "But you also didn't have to lie."

"What does it matter?" Finn asked. "I have no chance in hell of ever having more with her."

Kurt shifted in his seat, turning his body to face Finn. "Do you like her like that?"

"No, _no_ ," Finn said. "It's just, I don't know, she makes me feel good."

"And that's a miracle." Kurt said.

"What does that mean?" Finn asked.

"It means that you're in a place where it's a little harder to feel good than it used to be." Kurt said. "And it's amazing that Rachel is able to make you feel good now, of all times."

Finn slumped down in his seat. "It's got nothing to do with _that_."

"Hm." Kurt nodded. "Have you even considered talking to someone about it?"

"What's there to say?" Finn asked. "Oh, yeah, I got my ass kicked by two guys I _let_ into my car and it's totally _their_ fault that it all happened. Except _not_ because I'm the worst person in the world."

Kurt let out a long sigh. "How many times do I need to remind you that what happened isn't your fault? People in this world take advantage of people's good natures. It's just a shame that it happened to you, of all people."

Finn shook his head. His eyes stung with tears that he didn't want to be there. He turned his head to look at Kurt. Despite his own stubborn attitude, he had to admit that he was thankful that Kurt was here with him, that Kurt had been kind enough to allow him to come to New York with him. He'd never thought that Kurt, of all people, was the person he would turn to while he was in a crisis.

Or maybe, a small voice told him, Kurt just felt like he owed Finn for the times he'd had his back during the whole bullying debacle. Maybe Kurt felt like he had to repay Finn for that and none of this was a kind gesture, out of the goodness of his heart, but his way to get rid of his own guilt. It wasn't a massive leap, Finn had once heard that people tended to look out for themselves and themselves only and that they would do exactly that just so that they could make themselves feel better. Maybe Kurt was one of those people.

Maybe Rachel was one of those people.

"Finn Hudson?" Someone called out and Finn was up within seconds.

He ignored Kurt attempting to say something to him and went over to where the doctor was. After a short exchange, Finn followed her down a few hallways until they were in a small room. There was a bed covered with a thing sheet of paper and it looked like the nurse's office from his school. Finn sat down on the bed and watched as the doctor brought over a tray of items.

"I've been in contact with your doctor from Ohio." she explained. "He filled me in on the extent of your injuries. It seems like the bruising has cleared up rather quickly and we just need to remove the stitches."

"Yeah." Finn said. "Will it hurt?"

"Not much." She said. "It's just a few snips and then some tugging as I remove the thread. You'll be fine."

Finn nodded and took in a deep breath as she began to do exactly what she said. She gently removed the sutures and got rid of one of the last reminders of the incident. After a few minutes, the stitches were completely gone and as the doctor turned away, Finn gently touched the place they had been. He could feel a small line there and he correctly guessed that it was a scar. So, maybe the reminder wasn't completely gone. Maybe he would have to live with a small one forever. That made his stomach twist violently.

"The same rules apply." The doctor explained. "Keep the area clean, take care when you're cleaning it, and try not to do anything that would aggravate it for a little while. There's still a chance you could open the wound."

"Will the scar always be there?" Finn asked.

"It might get fainter over time but yes, the scar will always be there." she said. "I could recommend some good treatments that have proven to help scars fade quicker, if you'd like?"

Finn shook his head. "No, it'll be fine."

"Okay." She said. "There is another thing."

"Hm?"

"I had looked over your files and noticed that you don't seem to be in any kind of counselling." she said.

"Oh, I don't need it." Finn said. "I'm fine, it was nothing."

"Uh huh." She moved over to her desk and then came back over to him. "This is a card for a counselling service. You can call up and make an appointment but they do accept walk ins for short meetings. It'd be best if you at least went once."

Finn took the card she handed him and looked down at it for a moment. He wasn't going to go but he figured it was best just to entertain the idea.

"Sure," he said. "I'll think about it. Are we, um, done?"

"We are." she said. "Feel free to come back if any of your injuries flare up again."

"Yeah."

Finn got off the bed and quickly left the room quicker than he'd ever done so in his life. He quickly made his way down the hallways until he was back in the waiting area and Kurt spotted him, standing up as he did so.

"How'd it go?" he asked.

"Fine. Stitches are gone." Finn said. "But I'm gonna have a scar."

"Are you okay?" Kurt asked.

"I'm fine. Why?" Finn asked.

"You seem a little panicked." Kurt said.

"I just want to go home, okay?" Finn said.

"Sure." Kurt said. "Let's go."

They left the hospital then, heading down the pavement towards where they could find the subway that would take them back to their apartment. Kurt had been more than right when he'd noted how Finn seemed more panicked because he _did_ feel more panicked. He wasn't sure where the notion had come from but he did know that he wanted it gone.

He assumed it had everything to do with the card that was still clenched in his hand, so when they passed a trash can, Finn threw it away.


End file.
